


One of Many Waves

by Mars00135



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Armin Loves Science, Astronomy Professor Hanji, Because space is awesome, Bottom Eren, Bottom Jean, Boys In Love, Broadcasting Major Marco, Bromance, California stereotypes, College Life, College Student Jean, DJ Marco, DJ Ymir, Depression, English Major Mikasa, Eren is a little punk, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Sex, F/F, F/M, Farlan Church - Freeform, Film Professor Erwin, Film Student Annie, Friends to Lovers, Grad Student Marco, I am reeeeally sorry about this but things are going to get better in the next chapter, I promise!, Isabel Magnolia - Freeform, Jean isn't a dick, Jean wants Marco, Journalism Professor Shadis, Levi is almost the same height as Eren, M/M, Marco is a sassy but sweet orb of love, May Switch, Mentions of Death, Multiple chapters, Past Relationships, Photographer Jean, Photography, Photography Professor Levi, Photography Student Eren, Pining, Rape Non-Con, Realistic plot, Romance, Slow frickin' build!, Surfer Ymir, Surfing, Tasteful Sex, These boys need some Barry White music, Top Levi, Versatile Roles, Ymir and Marco are siblings, blushing jean, character injury, college student marco, fem! hanji - Freeform, handjobs, mentions of disney, mikasa and levi are cousins, minor original characters, music references, not sorry, surfer marco, top Marco
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2018-09-23 18:48:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 200,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9671456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mars00135/pseuds/Mars00135
Summary: Jean Kirstein finally shook the dust of his home town from his shoes and moved to California to study photography at UC Santa Barbara. After moving into his new apartment, he heads to the beach to squeeze in a few hours of relaxation and, hopefully, to break in his new Cannon EOS 5DS. Taking the advice his fellow classmate and friend, Eren offered him, Jean hits up a local surf spot known for its beautiful scenery and even sweeter swells. But what he finds gliding across the waters takes his breath away...A love story between a student photojournalist and a surfer where neither is who they seem to be...





	1. As the sun rises

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fan fic which means it won't be perfect. Keep it civil please.
> 
> -Mars

It was cold and grey with the sun streaking salmon pinks and orange across the sky in thick bands that bled into one another. Peeking through the clouds and breaking up the rising hues of changing magenta and pale peach were honey rays that painted the highway that stretched ahead. Jogging alongside the asphalt was the expanse of the Pacific Ocean. It was just as beautiful as Jean imagined it would be. Back home in New York, the beaches all looked the same. Maybe it was because he had grown tired of the same scenery that he'd grown up with. But there was something distinct--defining and nigh undeniable about the unique characteristics of the Californian coastline.

Smirking as he dangled his arm out the driver's side window, Jean inhaled then held his breath for a moment before releasing a long soothing breath. Sluggishly making it's way across the western sky was the waning moon. If he weren't driving, he would take a picture of the perfect morning playing out before him. But he would have more time for that once he got to the spot Eren had told him about at the housewarming party his friends threw for him last night.

Humming along to the mellow vocals of Joseph Arthur, Jean saw the road sign for the Rincon exit. His amber eyes brightened when the exit appeared a minute later. He'd been told that this was the place to go to see what a perfect California wave looked like. He'd also heard stories about it being a real monster that would chomp at surfers after a strong storm. But this week had been nothing but sunshine and large cumulus clouds wafting lazily through the sky. It was perfect weather for walking the beaches and catching some candid action shots. However, when he pulled up to Via Real to park, he only spotted a dozen or so cars dotted throughout the lot.

Furrowing his brow for only a moment, he shrugged and killed the engine of his old but true 1991 Isuzu trooper. The thing was four years older than him but still ran like a dream. Shivering as he left the warmth and safety of the car cabin, Jean grabbed his flecked charcoal grey hoodie and pushed his arms through the sleeves. Zipping it up, he layered on his green cargo jacket that had enough pockets to hold spare batteries, a portable charger, his phone, wallet, and, if need be, his press badge. He didn't particularly like the picture, namely because he was dead tired when the guy took it.The flash had exaggerated the pallor of his skin and the slight bags beneath his eyes yet, oddly enough, made his unkempt bedhead look more appealing than usual. Below the mug shot was his haphazard signature "J. Kirstein." The semester may not have started yet but his photojournalism professor had made it abundantly clear that everyone in the course was to keep their badges handy in case a story broke near campus. That or they had fallen off a cliff and their badge was the only way to ID the victim.

Pressing into the trooper for a brief moment to avoid a solitary car that came ripping through the lot, Jean walked around to the trunk and popped it open. He took a second glance through his camera bag to make sure he hadn't forgotten a lens or the SD card he always managed to lose only to find it again in his pocket. Yawning while he blinked away tired tears, Jean hummed low in his throat showing his satisfaction with what he saw. Slinging the strap of the camera around his neck, he zipped up the bag and locked the trunk.

The path that led to the shore hugged the edge of a beachside community with one and two story houses that made his single bedroom apartment look like a hole in the ground. Some people just had too much money. He'd never seen houses back home in Brooklyn as ostentatious as the ones that seemed to be a fixture in California. It probably had to do with there being more space or the land being cheaper to buy and build on. Grunting against a sudden drag of salted wind, Jean ducked his head down and walked onward until finding the part of the path that was planked with what had to be massive logs of driftwood. Stamping along, he nodded back to the one or two surfers leaving the beach.

When his shoes met the soft crunch of sand beneath them, Jean stood in place to take in the sight. The encroaching sunlight had pretty much swallowed the moon; banishing it to the other end of the earth until nighttime came again. There were gulls flying overhead and others bobbing atop the waves that rolled leisurely below them. A pelican was sloshing its head around under the water trying to catch breakfast. The creature plucked its head up enough for it to take a breath before dipping back down again with that massive bill open and ready. Just around the curve was the portion of the beach known as the Indicator. The winds pounded their way around the jut of land that stood in defiance to the elements. Ripping around the shore were waves that grew steadily in size forming barrels large enough for a full grown man to stand comfortably inside.

Not wanting to wasting another moment of Golden Hour daylight, Jean turned on his camera and got to work adjusting the white balance and shutter speed. As he fiddled with the controls, he meandered along the sand making sure to look up every couple of moments in case a dog and its owner came jogging by and didn't see him. The last thing he wanted was to ruin the $4,000 piece of equipment he had saved up for since he graduated from high school and nailed his first job at the neighborhood camera equipment shop.

"Shit," he mumbled under his breath. Scowling at himself for screwing with the frame rate and forgetting how to find his way back to the menu option, Jean pressed the arrow keys like they were the controls on his xBox controller. "What did I do? Crap, seriously Kirstein? First thing in the morning?"

As he continued to button mash looking for the combo that would get him back to the screen he was on a minute ago, a chill raced down his spine that gripped at his chest. The cold wind stung at his cheeks and ruffled his ashen hair and made the deeper trimmed strands of his undercut stand on end. Stifling another shiver by hunching his shoulders together, he smirked in triumph as he stumbled on the familiar tab that would take him to the menu to adjust frame rate. After selecting the option he was looking for, Jean turned his eyes toward the waters ahead of him. As a burst of wind barreled down the coast his gaze landed on a shadowed form slinking effortlessly across the glittering waves.

He couldn't tell if his heart had frozen from the temperature outside or from the sight before him, but what he did know was that he had to capture that magnificent image. Snapping into action he dipped down to rest one knee in the damp sand. As his left hand adjusted the focus, his other hand steadied the camera as he slowly tracked the figure until it was lit up perfectly by the morning sun. Pressing down on the shutter button, a rapid series of shots were taken. When the action ceased, Jean slowly lowered the cannon only then realizing that he had been holding his breath. 'Who...?' he wondered but was unable to finish his own thoughts.

Reclining back so that he was sitting on the heels of his chucks, Jean watched that fluid human-like form draw closer to shore. Paddling in like the last six foot wave was nothing was a tall bronzed man wearing a black Hurley springsuit. Flashing a perfect smile at the young woman that came to meet him, the surfer unzipped his suit and pulled it down to his hips revealing more of his flawless golden skin. Raking a hand through his damp shaggy chestnut brown hair, he placed a sweet kiss on the womans cheek. She was almost as tall as her companion but short enough that--with the shifting of the sand--had to stand on her toes to return the gesture.

Securing his board in the crook of his left arm, the man walked toward the stairs that led to the parking lot on the backside of the sheltered beach. As he passed by, he caught sight of some guy sitting in the sand gawking at him, camera in hand, with a look of disbelief painted across his features. Chuckling, he smirked at the man then shot him a quick wink before breezing by.

The faint scent of citrus and sunblock lingered in the air around Jean as he gradually came back to his senses. Blinking once then twice more, he turned to look over his shoulder but there wasn't a soul in sight. Bewildered, he looked at his camera and turned on the review feature. Clicking through the series of photo's that had been stored on the card, his eyes landed on the fifth one in the sequence of eight. There, clear as day, was the beautiful man that looked as if he had fallen out of a dream. The smile, the bronze skin that had absorbed the sweetness of the sun, and bright caramel eyes lidded by heavy black lashes.

He was still stuck in his reverie as a gentle breeze rolled by carrying on it the scent from before. Jean's heart fluttered at the smell leaving him to wonder...

"What the hell was that?"


	2. Waking up to a dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean tries to focus in class but the appearance of a familiar face and smirk set the semester off to a rocky start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter summaries from here on out are going to be kept minimal because I'm a terrible person and I want you guessing for most of this long trip. Don't worry, it'll be fun.
> 
>  
> 
> \-->Thank you all for the support and encouragement. I want to give a special shout out to the lovely, SimplyTsundere. You are a wicked thinker and I love it.

It had been a week and Jean had yet to pluck up the courage to go back to Rincon. He got close, twice. Driving to the beach the day after he had snapped the photo of the nameless surfer, he turned around halfway to the surf spot. Two days later, he thought he could muster up the bravery to try once more. He had made it to the tail end of Rincon but was suddenly overcome with panic. 'What if he thinks I'm stalking him?' Jean thought with a sudden chill. Consigning to defeat, he spun the trooper around and high-tailed it back up the coast.

Even if he was to meet the man, what would he say? Jean was so gobsmacked the last time he saw that smile that he knew the results would be the same the second time around.

Slumping into the heap of down pillows he had piled behind him, Jean clicked through the photos on his camera for the third time that afternoon. An elderly couple walking down the pier with their hands clasped together was caught in perfect timing by his lens as a rush of pigeons flooded the background. Following their image was a series of five shots chronicling the local fishermen at work. Scenes of calloused hands repairing a weathered net that had seen better days accompanied the bright faces of three middle aged men. Their florescent orange smocks and blue rubber gloves were coated in sparkling silver flecks no bigger than a pinky nail and semi-translucent slime from the fish they were descaling.

Slowly scrolling through the pictures of a young girl running along the beach with her border collie and some close up's of the brightly colored starfish that had clustered together underneath the pier, Jean felt a smile tug at his lips. Somehow he had managed to get a shot of a mellow coral pink and white octopus hanging out it its garden; apparently The Beatles weren't lying. The little guy was happily nestled in his cubby just below the waters surface. Inside his hollowed out pumice alcove were trinkets that twinkled in the afternoon sun. Some of the items looked like they were man-made; others were obviously so like the scuba mask the octopus had sat on top of.

Marking the photo, Jean made a mental note to ask Armin about the octopus's species later. Although, with the amount of time that guy spent at the Natural History Museum, he was more likely to see a giant squid than he was to catch the blonde relaxing any time soon.

It seemed like everyone was working more than they usually did so that they could cut back on hours once the semester started. However, since Jean had yet to receive his schedule from the Santa Barbara Independent, he was seemingly left to his own devices. And while he loved going out and exploring the wildlife around him, the close call that almost resulted with him plummeting off a cliff face had temporarily dampened his urge to wander from home lest he become a cautionary tale stored away in Shadis's hand guide of what not to do.

So there he sat, listening to music and the unexpected burst of early spring rain fall outside his bedroom window. As "Honey and the Moon" began to play, Jean clicked on to the next picture. His breath hitched when he saw the familiar smile of the nameless surfer glinting at him through the screen. It was such a warm, soft expression that tugged at the edges of his large brown eyes. Those eyes that he found himself falling into; tumbling about in the velvet depths that threatened to swallow him whole. Jean felt like a total idiot. He didn't even know the guy yet every inch of him sought out the gleam in those honeyed eyes. 

Reminding himself that the man in question was already spoken for, Jean turned off the camera. Rising from his warm nest of pillows, three different blankets, flannel sheets, and duvet, he sat the cannon down on the dresser to charge overnight. It was already 11:30 p.m. and he had to be in the newsroom by 8:30 a.m. for orientation and first assignment. Grabbing his favorite grey henley with the whole in the back of the neck and left thumb and a pair of black jogger pants, Jean made his way to the bathroom down the hall to wash up. He only took a ten minute shower that night because he just didn't have the energy to spare for anything longer. After washing his face and brushing his teeth, he slipped on his retainer before sliding under the sumptuous layers of blankets. Tugging them up to his chin, he sighed happily while switching on the small desk fan on his nightstand. Listening to the gentle whirring of the fan and the faint rattling of its metal cage structure, Jean gradually submitted to sleep and was swept up in its waves.

\----------------------------------------------------

Jean groaned from beneath the blankets strewn above him as the alarm on his phone sounded. 'Didn't I just fall asleep?' he thought as his hand shuffled about seeking purchase on the mobile device. His eyes shot open when he saw the time. Leaping from bed he scrambled to get dressed since he was already running dreadfully late. Orientation started in less than an hour and he had to drive to campus, find parking--oh joy!, and pray that the lot he parked in was close enough to the newsroom or else he'd be sprinting across the campus.

Keeping the henley, Jean swapped his sweats out for a pair of dark wash slim jeans and a caramel brown leather belt with black and white ikat patterning sewn into the exposed surface. Tugging on his favorite black Chuck Taylor's and a faded green cargo jacket, he slung the camera strap around his neck, double checked the side slot on it for the SD card, threw his press badge in his black rucksack backpack before bolting out the door. The last thing he grabbed before locking up was a plain bagel from the counter. There was no time for toasting when an imposing staff advisor was waiting for you to arrive so that he could start class. This was not how Jean wanted to start the year off.

Not in the mood for soothing music, Jean scrolled through the songs on his phone before landing on something that seemed to fit the moment. Cranking the sound up, his fingers drummed along to "Flagpole Sitta." It was the anthem of an entire socially awkward and morally anxious generation. He drove as fast as was legally possible; pressing on the gas on the straighter-way streets while easing up on turns. It was a miracle that the cops hadn't been called to apprehend him. Or maybe the local police had thrown in the towel decades ago because they couldn't keep up with the number of students running late to class. Either way, it was a godsend since he was pushing 8:10. Twenty minutes to find available parking on the first day and get to class on time? Fat chance in hell. He would just have to take Professor Shadis's scolding and make up for it by taking an assignment on the first day.

After missing out on two spots closer to Storke Tower, Jean settled for a spot in the lot next to the Student Health building. Sticking the parking permit in the windshield, he yanked his backpack over the front seat headrest and left the car. Jean pressed down on the remote access key to lock the car as he sprinted toward the massive tower off in the distance. It was the only indicator he had to find his way around campus. Luckily, right below the massive metal and cement icon was the Storke Communications Plaza which housed the Daily Nexus. By the time he got to the exterior building stairs he was winded and slowing in pace.

Pushing past the wrenching pain in his side, Jean stormed up the stairs and past the main entrance. He remembered his way around from the few times he had visited Eren and Connie last summer so he didn't need much help locating the newsroom. After taking a moment to fix himself, Jean pushed the door open and entered the large room.

There were more people present than he anticipated and, as it would appear, he was the only one to arrive late. At the center of the newsroom was a string of bench desks that were pushed together to make an open ended box. Sitting at the desk were the editors with Shadis standing behind a podium that had been fixed between two of the desks. At his back was a whiteboard already covered in red, blue, and black ink. Opposite of him and the editors were the dozens of reporters. There had to be at least twenty of them and all of their eyes, as well as some of the senior staff members, were on him.

"How nice of you to join us Kirstein," Shadis announced without missing a beat. Narrowing his piercing hazel eyes, he continued, "Press Badge?"

Blinking his confusion away, Jean hesitated. Glancing between Shadis and Eren, who was motioning at his neck from the editor's table--eyes urgent and forceful, Jean suddenly understood what they both were hinting at. Pulling the ID out of his backpack, he looped it around his neck and waited for the professor to make his next comment.

"Next time you come in without it on, I'll glue it to your forehead. Since you're late, you get the seat at the front of the writers pool," Shadis said gesturing with an open hand to the empty seat dead smack in the middle of the first line of chairs. "Fortunately for you, we were just about ready to go around the table and do introductions."

Shadis waited for Jean to sit and situate himself before pivoting to his left. Reclined back in the seat the behemoth of a professor was staring down at was a comparably shorter man with a finely chiseled jawline, black hair fashioned into an undercut that contrasted his alabaster skin, and striking steel blue eyes. With a sigh, the man rose to his feet and took over command of the podium. Despite the height difference, he could easily fold his arms over the platforms' smooth wooden surface. Dressed down in black jeans, a white crew neck tee, and a plaid flannel tied around his hips, the man could have passed for a student. Especially with that indifferent attitude of his.

"Right, so now that everyone is present, my name is Levi Ackerman and I'm the photography and visual media professor. I will be standing in for Professor Ral who is away on maternity leave. She will be back at the end of May so it looks like we're stuck with each other for the next couple of months," Levi concluded.

So this was the guy Eren had been hung up on. Well he was his type but damn, crushing on your professor was a risky game. Glancing to his friend, Jean couldn't see any of his normal tells that showed up when he was around a guy he was interested in. If it weren't for the brief nibble on his lip, Eren could have fooled them all. But Jean caught the gesture, storing it away for future use during their lunch break.

"Alright, so now we're going to go around the table and your editors will introduce themselves," Levi said as he turned to look to his left. "You know the drill."

Sitting at the far end of the table was a man that was only a bit taller than Jean and wore his thick black hair in a bowl cut reminiscent of The Beatles during their early years. "Hey guys, I'm Marlo Freudenberg. I'll be your Editor In Chief."

The fair haired pixie-esque woman next to him chimed in immediately after he had finished his introduction. "I'm Hitch Dreyse and I'm your managing editor."

"Hey everyone, I'm Reiner Braun and I'm the sports editor," said the buff blonde in the fitted grey t-shirt and navy zip-up hoodie.

The tall and tan giant next to Reiner then introduced himself, "I'm Bertolt Hoover and I am the assistant sports editor and a radio host for KCSB."

Nodding, Levi turned his gaze to the right side of the lineup. When he saw that Eren hadn't been paying attention he clicked his tongue. "Jaeger," Levi barked causing a jolt to work through the young man immediately to his right. "Pay attention."

"Shit, umm, I'm Eren Jaeger and I'm the photo editor."

To Eren's side were Jean's other friends that had moved to California to attend UCSB. First to talk was the short male with a fresh buzz cut and librarian box black rimmed glasses. He was dressed in a chambray button down with the top two buttons undone. "Hey guys, I'm the opinion's editor. My name's Connie Springer and this is my assistant editor Sasha Blouse. We're also talk show hosts for the campus radio station."

The brunette was not only his assistant editor but she was Connie's long-time girlfriend with a fierce love of food. In between sips of her coffee Sasha smiled at the group before her. "Hey guys, good to meet ya'll."

Beside her was a beautiful blonde with blue eyes so wide, it could put a spotted tailed deer to shame. "I'm Krista Lenz. I'm the news editor and the host of 'Let's Get Real' for KCSB."

With a sigh, Levi shifted his weight onto his other leg and tapped a single finger against the top of the podium. "Okay, now that the paper has been covered, Ymir..."

When Jean shifted his gaze to see who the professor was addressing, his stomach clenched. Standing before him was the amazonian woman from the beach. The one that had kissed the nameless surfer on the cheek and hooked her arm around his when they left.

Working past his initial shock and growing nausea, he could see why she was dating such a good looking man. She was statuesque with willowy limbs that looked graceful as she moved. Her tanned skin and feline facial features were framed by the messy side bun from which her chestnut brown hair spilled from. As she scanned the crowd, a subtle yet mischievous smirk pulled at the corners of her lips when she spotted Jean.

"Hey there," she said with a devious tone peppering her words. "I'm Ymir, host of 'Shut up, I'm talking' and the program director at KCSB. The lazy bum beside me is my staff manager and senior DJ host."

Kicking the person next to her, she instructed him to wake up and "get with the program." Lifting his head from the table while simultaneously pushing the hood of his heather gray zip-up away from his face the man yawned again. Jean felt himself go ridged. It was him. The surfer. The one that had been haunting him since Jean took the pictures of him at Rincon. What's more is that he was even more impressive upon second meeting.

The exposed sun drenched skin of his face, neck and collarbone glowed bright under the natural light coming in from the window behind him. A light smattering of freckles graced his cheeks and nose only to blend in with the bronze gleam whenever the sun hit him. Everything about his face was perfectly formed. His lips were fullest on bottom with a gentle curve in the corners to add to his playful air. His nose was straight and dignified. Beneath the shade of his thick lashes that swept against his cheeks with each blink were a pair of honey brown eyes that almost hummed from the energy pooling behind them.

Those eyes, that had Jean speechless weeks ago, were now staring back at him as the fires inside them were stoked back to life. They pinned him to his seat and disabled his mouth, rendering it useless. And when those eyes recognized who they were trained on, a spark of mischief registered within them.

The man quirked a brow so subtly that it almost went undetected. Leaning back in his chair, he finally spoke. "Morning guys. I'm Marco Bott, the staff manager for KCSB and the host of Ride. I look forward to getting along with you all." Narrowing in on Jean, Marco smirked. "Welcome to the newsroom."


	3. Shooting the Breeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ymir appraises the new blood in the newsroom, Jean turns down an assignment, and the Bott siblings spend some quality time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there will be a series of playlists being released according to each character. I love tailoring the music I listen to to match the personality of each person so no two are the same. Next chapter will be Marco's first list so keep your eyes peeled.
> 
>  
> 
> \----And to those who are digging this fic, check out the following creators. They're highly gifted writers and worth the time.  
> -SimplyTsundere  
> -Plasticmarshmallows  
> -Myowninvention  
> -TheSoulReader  
> -LittleSeedOfDarkness (IttyBittyTeapot)  
> -Cinnamon_skull  
> -Imawarlock  
> -Masksarehot  
> -PorcelainRose  
> -SleepyxAsh  
> -Teapotscandal  
> -XanderB

Holding the charged gaze of the stunned new guy across the table, Marco chuckled deep in his throat as he shifted in his seat. This Kirstein fellow was far more adorable than he remembered him being the last time he saw him. Frozen in place with both knees in the wet sand and a look of disbelief stretched over his face, it was as if someone had just spit in his mouth and told him to swallow. Yet now Marco could see the nerves buzzing beneath his fair skin and the slight gnawing going on behind his delicate lips.

Marco watched as his unrelenting attention that was focused solely on Jean made the photographer squirm in place as Levi continued with the class lecture. It had been far too long since a face that pretty graced the newsroom and he was determined to find out what else he was interested in apart from that camera whose strap had found its way around his neck. 'Is he taking a first week assignment?' Marco thought eyeing the piece. 'I wonder if Keith will force a section on him or let him choose on his own.' As the words crossed his mind a thought arose. Turning his eyes back to study Jean's profile a closed mouth grin pulled at the corners of his lips.

Looking up from her notebook that she had been jotting down notes in, Ymir caught sight of Marco's small smile. It was odd seeing him so energized in the newsroom. Normally, he saved that kind of vigor for his radio show and the beach. Tracking his line of sight, Ymir finally understood what was causing her brother's blood to catch fire. Leaning into him, she tapped Marco on the thigh under the table.

"You'll burn a hole in him if you stare too long," Ymir whispered low enough that it wouldn't interrupt Levi's lecture. "If you ask me, he seems like the kind that scares easily."

"I doubt it," Marco murmured with complete confidence.

"Well then, I guess the question you should be asking yourself is 'Does he swing that way?'"

Shooting her a pointed glance, Marco hesitated for a brief moment before answering. "If he didn't then why would he have looked at me the way he did at the beach?"

"Maybe he was admiring your abilities in the water."

"And when he saw me just a moment ago when I introduced myself to the class?"

Ymir sighed as she closed her notebook and stuck the pen in the metal spiral holding it all together. "I'm just looking out for you pua'a. You're a grown ass man and can pursue whomever you please but I still worry about you. 'Kay?"

"I'll be fine sis. Trust me?" Marco said turning to look at her with those big brown eyes that got her every damn time.

Kissing him on the cheek, she smirked, "Always. Remember to assign those two photo illustrations for the webpage and to eat before your show today. I don't want you starving midway through it like last week."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Now get going before Gottesman usurps your throne."

Snorting laughter at the thought of any of her DJ's trying to dethrone her as program director, Ymir slung the strap of her black messenger bag over her shoulder and told Keith and Levi that she had to head out. As she pulled the door open the shorter of the two instructors told her to say hello to Duchess for him. Gottesman hated that nickname but knowing it would cause his face to bunch up in agitation, she nodded and gave a final farewell to the new blood in the reporters pool.

A half hour after Ymir left, the lecture had concluded and the newcomers were left to mingle with their senior editors and staff members. Shadis had told them that if they were late or wanted to get a story down before they started print week next Monday that now would be the time to grab one before the editors left. As everyone shuffled around the desks and chairs either to leave or speak to a senior member, Jean lingered in his chair. Levi had written down the lab hours for the darkroom and newsroom which, as fate would have it, were almost completely opposite of one another. The hours to rent photography equipment from the studio were also all over the map as well so figuring out a schedule for all three was going to be tricky.

As he wrote the last couple of rental hours down, Jean's eyes fell to the side for only a moment to catch sight of Marco reclined back in his chair with his gaze fixed on him. Looking to the left then right, it was suddenly clear to Jean that he was the one the brunette was staring down with those relaxed yet burning eyes of his. 'What does he want?' Jean wondered hoping he wouldn't find out. He already felt nauseous from the man's sudden appearance and that kiss on the cheek from the girlfriend wasn't helping. It was odd that someone as stern as Levi who seemed to be a stickler for professionalism would allow the couple to openly display their affection in the workplace. Furthermore, wasn't it against the code of conduct cited in the policy manual?

Shaking the questions from his head, Jean began to pack up his gear so that he could get a head start on the photo assignment Krista had given him. It was a photo essay on the wildlife on campus and was due in two days but he didn't have anything better to do at the moment so why not shoot the pictures now? Shoving the notepad into his backpack, Jean looked up and saw that Marco had changed his posture so that he was leaning forward, eyes still on him like he was getting ready to ask a question. Forcing his voice to work, Jean met the mans' gaze with something of an annoyed expression.

"What?" he asked indignantly.

The smile on Marco's lips deepened as they parted revealing his perfectly white teeth that stood in contrast to his tan skin.

"So you can talk," Marco chuckled. "I wasn't sure after that encounter at the beach the other week. Could've sworn you were a mute."

Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck prickle up from the rush of embarrassment, Jean quickly replaced the rising blush on his cheeks with a scowl. "So you're one of those guys, huh? How sad."

"'One of those guys?'" Marco repeated suddenly hyper aware of what the words could mean.

"The cocky kind that likes to mess with the new people."

Allowing a short laugh, Marco shook his head. "I'm not trying to mess with you Jean. It's just polite conversation."

"Right. Well, if you'll excuse me, I have an--"

"Hold on a moment," Marco said as he rose to his feet. 

Walking around the desks so that they were only a foot apart from each other, Jean was suddenly aware of how tall Marco was. Taking in a sharp breath, he could smell the dizzying infusion of citrus and sunblock that wafted off of the brunette. Mingling with the familiar scent was something different; a hint of something deeper like sandalwood. It made his heart race behind the aching bones of his rib cage that struggled to hold the hyperactive muscle in its place. Why did he react so strongly to someone who was virtually a perfect stranger? There was more to it than him being devastatingly handsome. Something about the man made the nerves in his gut churn and scream for release; but from what he didn't know.

Taking a step back he looked Marco up and down before making eye contact. "What?" he said; this time more cautiously.

"I was wondering if you wanted to shoot some wild art for the radio webpage." Marco smiled softly, still harboring some unknown further meaning behind the shade of his lashes. "Ymir asked me to recruit two photographers for the visual aspect of some stories we'll be covering this week. So, are you up for it?"

"Sorry, I can't. I already have an assignment. You should try someone else."

"That's too bad. Next time then."

"Uh, yeah," Jean muttered suddenly feeling more than a bit self-conscious. 

Why was he staring at him so intensely? Was it a normal thing Marco did with everyone else and he was just overreacting? Shrugging his backpack back up his shoulder Jean pivoted away from Marco and away from the heat stemming from those impenetrable eyes.

Sensing his discomfort Marco relented. "See you later then. Remember to wear your badge to class next time Jean or Shadis will nail you to a cross. 'Kay?"

"'K-kay," he stuttered.

Turning on his heel, Jean exited the newsroom hearing a faint chuckle escape Marco's mouth. The rich tone rumbled in his ears like the chiming of Big Ben at midnight. Damn him for being so smooth! Pushing the door open, Jean sighed with a low growl. This was definitely not the way he expected to start the year off.

\----------------------------------------------------

After assignments had been handed out and the photographers knew which writers they were working with that week, the newsroom quieted down by a considerable degree. It was usually more mellow when just the editors were in because they were too tired or focused to waste time getting caught up in aimless chatter. But that wasn't to say they didn't socialize while working.

Walled off in the back was what the senior staff members referred to as the "Bull Pen." There, the seasoned vets caught up with one another swapping stories about their vacations over the winter intersession. Sasha and Connie had flown back to New York to visit their families and had come back with souvenirs for the gang. Marlo slumped back in his cushy chair behind his desk smiling like the sun as Sasha regaled them with their after-hour adventures that had almost resulted in Connie's arrest for trespassing. Beside Marlo, Hitch rolled her eyes and shook her head at how typical it all sounded. She couldn't help but smirk when the two opinion editors began arguing over whose fault it really was that the alarm had sounded. 

The fight didn't last long because Connie shoved a vanilla cupcake in Sasha's mouth then kissed her nose when she frowned. Throwing a marshmallow at him from the bag she was working on, Sasha then swiped some of the icing from her upper lip and smeared it on his cheek. Connie chuckled then thumbed it off which he then licked clean. Those two were so stupidly in love it was almost nauseating.

From the opposite side of the pen, Krista smirked as she listened to the antics play out. Scrolling through the weekly budget, she updated which reporters had taken stories and the photographers that were assigned to them. Typing in Jean's first name, she paused as she tried to remember how he spelled his surname. Spinning around in her chair, the blonde tapped Eren on the shoulder. He had his Beats on and was listening to music as he began pressing last weeks photos. When he didn't feel the tapping on his shoulder, Connie tapped the sole of his shoe then jerked his chin at Krista when Eren looked up.

"What's up?" Eren asked as he secured the headphones around his neck.

"How do you spell Jean's last name? He took that wildlife story so I'm entering him into the budget."

"Uhh, it's K, i, r, s, t, e, i, n." Eren spelled it out trying to remember if that was, in fact, how he spelt it. Mouthing the letters silently one more time, he nodded, "Yeah, that's how you write it."

"Huh," Krista quipped staring at the name for a second. "It's kinda weird but it sounds pretty. What is he, German?"

"I'm pretty sure it's French. I can't remember though. You could ask him."

As Krista opened her mouth to respond, Levi came blazing through the door, removing his sunglasses in the process. Knitting his brows together, he came to a standstill halfway through the room. Looking around he turned to the editors hanging out in the back area. Taking a couple steps more he surveyed the faces that were present.

"Hey, where's Bott?"

"Which one?" Marlo asked from his desk.

"Ymir. She said she had something she had to talk about. Of course she wouldn't be where she said she'd be."

"Did you check the broadcasting room? She's usually holed up in there."

"Yeah, I did but she wasn't there," Levi said, his voice turning into a mumble as he glanced at his watch. "Shit, I have a board meeting I have to get to. If you see Ymir, tell her to drop by the darkroom after five," he said turning to leave. A few steps before the door, he turned back around after remembering something. "Oh yeah, Jaeger, you still want to shoot film tomorrow right?"

Jumping at the sound of his name, Eren removed the headphones that he had slipped back over his ears. "What? What's happening?"

"Jesus kid, pay attention and turn that music down or you'll go deaf." Levi chided. Expression softening, he posed his question for a second time. "Do you still want to shoot film tomorrow morning? I have a class at 9:35 so it would have to be early."

"Yeah, I'm still up for it."

"'Kay. I'll text you in the morning. Don't work late tonight or you'll never wake up in the morning. Got it?"

"Yeah. See you later. Oh, and text Marco if you can't find Ymir."

"Not a chance. The guy already checked out for the afternoon." Opening the door, Levi waved over his shoulder briefly before letting the entryway close hard behind him.

\------------------------------------------

The spray of salt water washed over Marco, leaving a tingle to spread over his sun-kissed face. Small rivulets followed the curves of his nose, down to the bow of his upper lip before dipping below the crease into his mouth as he took a sudden yet relaxed breath. Exhaling, he dropped down from the crest of a seven footer and ducked as he straightened out inside the waves' barrel. With both feet planted firmly on the boards waxed surface, he reached out to the right and let his fingers dance along the water's smooth surface. His smile grew with an infectious joy that did little to suppress the laughter ripping from his lungs.

He was happiest in the water. It was his home and the womb from which his love of the sport sprang forth from. Sure, he'd had his fair share of wipe out's that sent him to the hospital in pretty gnarly condition. But even so, Marco couldn't stay away from the ocean for longer than what his doctor's ordered. The man had grown up surfing. His first time was when he was five and his father sat him on the edge of his long board and rode the barrel of a monster wave. Since then, Marco sought out that perfect curl of crystalline water that would one day swallow him up and take him home.

Switching direction, Marco cut back to coast further out so that he could catch the next wave. The swells were perfect. Caught between the tail end of the previous storm and the one that would land later that week, the currents had picked up carrying with them an uncharacteristically high surf for that time of year. Spotting his ride rolling in the distance, Marco turned around, letting the building wave pull him backward. His heart soared and he could hear his pulse in the hollows of his ears. Holding his breath, Marco closed his eyes momentarily, feeling the water race beneath the dimpled belly of the board.

When the current below him stuttered his eyes opened and he snapped up onto the board. Securely planted in place, he gave the wooden surface under him a gentle nudge down. The motion redirected the surfboard and sent him shooting into the tube of the wave. Reaching out again so that he could trace his fingers along the wall of water, Marco felt so at peace. 

There, gliding along that bright blue road, he could let the world go and never look back. He didn't have to worry about writing research papers, paying tuition, what his next show would be about, or the fees for his graduation. It was just him and that perfect horizon that stretched on until it faded into oblivion.

But he couldn't stay at sea forever.

Riding the wave back to shore, Marco hopped off the board before removing the strap from around his ankle. It was funny to see the paler patch of skin that was hidden behind the black Velcro fibers. He was out in the sun so much that it had tanned everything else except for that one band of flesh.

Tucking the board into the crook of his left arm, Marco walked up the dunes as the waves crashed behind him and swiftly crept up to lick at his heels and calves before receding once more, leaving a trail of foam as proof of their existence. Sitting on the shore hidden beneath the shade of a waning palm tree was Ymir. Hunkered down next to his gear and change of clothes, she watched her brother walk up wearing that satisfied grin that only appeared when the waves were really good.

"Did you break a sweat?" she teased.

Laughing breathlessly, Marco drove the tail of his board into the sand, releasing only when it was able to stand on its own. Unzipping the back of his springsuit, he caught the towel she tossed his way and wrapped it around his waist before taking the neoprene skin off completely.

"Yeah. You should have seen the swells an hour ago. They were gorgeous."

"Surf whore."

"Ocean wench," he shot back with a cheeky smirk. "So what's the line up for tonight?"

"You have two Santa Barbara natives on the show that were accepted onto the US Olympic team for the surfing portion. Following them up will be your music segment and then the announcement for Club Rush and Greek Week. Then you'll cut to Krista for breaking news, weather, and the traffic report. She'll turn it back to you for any callers or music requests and then you'll close it up." Ymir said as she took his springsuit and shook the sand and water from it before putting it in the mesh carrying bag. "Sound good?"

"Yup, sounds fine to me. Did you drive down or did you walk from the house?"

"I walked."

"'Kay. I'll drive you home. Do you mind if I rinse off at your place? I got to shower before I go to the studio."

"I thought you liked smelling like the ocean," Ymir smirked waging a single brow at the obvious comparison.

Shaking his head as he fiddled with the keys, Marco smiled at her. "I do but I don't want to let the studio know that I'm cheating on it. Gotta keep the mistress and the mrs's separate, right?"

"You're terrible," she laughed sliding into the car once Marco had unlocked it. "You can use the shower. Just don't take long." 

Chucking the bag into the back as he secured the board to the roof rack, Ymir fastened her seat belt and checked her lip gloss as she waited for her brother. Plopping into the drivers seat, Marco turned the keys in the ignition of the dark grey Toyota rav4. The engine roared to life before lulling into a happy purr as it waited for the driver to shift gears. Pushing on the clutch, Marco put the car into first and eased onto the gas. Pulling away from the lot, he switched down to second then third to pick up speed. The sun was already setting and they had a show to host. Well, he did anyway.

Undoing her hair, Ymir shook her head letting the cool ocean air blow through her ink black shoulder length tresses. Sticking an arm out of the window, she let her hand ride the air current in the same manner that she rode waves. With a calm smile befallen her face, she closed her eyes as Marco shifted into fourth gear. The engine heaved gently before picking up speed. She could hear him humming along to the music playing. He always listened to the same track after surfing to come down from the high. It was a habit that he'd had since they were little and it made her smile at how, despite the years, some things would never change.

Reaching across the cabin, Ymir sweetly pinched his warm cheek. When Marco turned to look at her, she beamed brightly when she saw the dimples begin to form in his cheeks as he returned the smile.

"What?" he chuckled directing his attention back to the road.

"Nothing. I just love you is all."

"Did mom call and tell you to be nice to me again?" Marco joked looking between her and the road, squinting as the setting sun caught him by surprise.

"No," Ymir said softly. "I was just thinking that I hadn't said it in a while. You know it's weird, thinking of how much time has passed and yet it feels like yesterday that you were a freshman."

"It is pretty crazy. Makes me feel old."

"Don't you even start," she playfully grabbed his chin and jerked it from side to side. "I'm two years older than you so if you're old then I'm ancient."

"I'll say."

"Hey!" Ymir snapped with a smirk. "At least I'm not looking to rob a cradle for my next piece of tail."

"Wow, way to hit below the belt. And he's not that young. Or at least I hope he isn't."

"Uh huh," she nodded while rolling her golden eyes. Ymir paused for a brief moment before she asked, "Why him?"

"Huh?"

"Why that Kirstein kid? I mean, he seems pretty combative to me and you could have anyone if you wanted so why him?"

It took Marco a moment because he had never stopped to wonder. Why did he want Jean? The man was standoffish, indifferent, and actively pushed back when Marco pressed forward. He could tell he was the kind of person that lived in their head. Jean was guarded; most likely the aftermath from a relationship turned sour. But even so, he intrigued Marco. Something about those molten amber eyes brought him in with no promise of letting go. One moment he could read him like a book; the next Jean cut him off. He was a puzzle and Marco lived for challenges.

"Because he's an island," Marco murmured.

"What?"

"He's an island; isolated and imposing."

"You know that we are talking about a person here, not an actual island, right Marco?"

"Of course I know that Ymir. But that's what it feels like when I look at him. Even when he was talking to the others after class, he still looked like he was holding back. I want to see what's behind the walls he has up."

"You're so weird; no wonder you're still single."

"Thanks a lot."

"Well," Ymir said as they pulled into the driveway of her cozy beach house, "so long as you're happy, I'm good. But if he starts messing with you or breaks your heart, I'll break his arm."

"Duly noted."

"Right," she said opening the cabin door and sliding out of the passenger seat. "Come on, we got to get you cleaned up so that the studio doesn't pitch a fit over your cheating ways."


	4. Kissing the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Marco are stuck together during Club Rush, Levi and Eren spend some quality time together, the Bott's kick the semester off with a bang, and Marco plays 20 questions with Jean.
> 
>  
> 
> \---This is a long chapter so get comfortable.

"Welcome back to KCSB radio. This is your host for the afternoon, DJ M from Ride," Marco spoke soothingly into the microphone as his sunglasses hid the glow in his eyes from the smile that had been smoothed over his features for the past hour. "We are on our second day of Club Rush and never have I seen as many lovely faces grace the mall as I have this year. This next song is for Arcade Kat. Remember to visit the KCSB booth if you would like to place a song request or shoot me an email and we'll play it live." 

Pressing play on his laptop, Marco looped his headphones around his neck as "Shoop" by Salt-N-Pepa began to play. A snort of laughter pushed past his lips as he read the message that was attached to the song request. Kat was one of his long-time listeners that, as it turns out, had Chemistry 1 with him way back in the day. Fast becoming friends while serving their time in chem, they now played tag through the radio and sometimes she got a bit too raunchy. But Marco didn't mind. It shook up his otherwise monotonous afternoon. 

Speaking of having no shame while appreciating a fine looking man, Marco dipped his chin down so that he could better see Jean at work over the rim of his reflective aviators. He had to hand it to him, the guy was dedicated to his work and it showed in the pictures he handed in for print. Whereas most twenty-something year olds would take a few photo's and call it a day, Jean caught every possible aspect of the human experience in his viewfinder. Cheerleaders being thrown up into the air with streamers behind them. The Chumash impersonator, Singing Feather, sitting by the lagoon playing his wooden flute. A sweet whispered exchange between lovers sitting at the Astronomy Club booth. All of it was purview to Jean. He seemed more at ease behind a lens than he did speaking to a person, face to face. It was probably one of Jeans more attractive qualities.

The only downside was that sour apple attitude the younger man seemed to hold against Marco as if it were a shield. 'Why was he being so difficult?' the brunette pondered while playing the next request. 'Was he straight?' The idea was enough to knock Marco's confidence down a few pegs. He had never been so intrigued and annoyed as he had been during these last two weeks.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Eren answer his phone with a mild blush dusting his cheeks. Nodding his head, he hung up then began packing his things. From what Marco could gather, that was likely Levi on the other line telling him that his shift was over. And the blush likely meant that they were going to shoot wild art again. It was clear as day to everyone EXCEPT Levi that his photo editor had it bad for the short and disinterested professor. Hell, the kid had been holding a torch for him since freshman year. The only thing that had changed over the past four years was that Eren was now legal so, technically, no one would wind up in court if something were to happen.

"Eh, Jaeger," Marco said catching the photographer off guard. "You heading out?"

"Yeah, my shift is over."

"You shooting today?"

Stifling a smile, Eren nodded while shrugging his backpack back up his shoulder. "Yeah, I'm meeting Levi at the newsroom before we head to the botanic garden."

"Sounds like a date," Marco teased waggling his brows as his smile curled into a devious smirk.

"God, fuck you Marco."

"Thanks, but I thought you preferred shorter men with black hair."

Groaning from the frustration a conversation with the cheeky host facilitated, Eren flipped him off when Marco shouted 'Use Protection!' loud enough for everyone within an earshot could hear. Turning to glare for a brief moment, the editor stormed up the mall and tapped Jean on the shoulder. 'You can't be fucking serious...' The cocky grin instantly fell from the brunette's face as Eren pointed to the booth and Jean looked over his shoulder, making eye contact with the DJ. Was Eren doing this on purpose? Or was it just a coincidence? Either way, Marco was screwed.

Marco watched as the senior photographer patted his friend on the back then left; disappearing into the crowd of students. Jean's shoulders rose then fell with a sigh before he shifted in place to look back at the booth. He did not appear to be in the least bit pleased with this new development. Switching off his camera, the man dragged himself to the Daily Nexus booth and plopped down in the padded chair. It was hot, humid, and the sun was hitting both of their backs, but did Jean really have to look that upset?

The silence that spawned between them was more than uncomfortable. It was so thick it choked out any hope of exchanging banter like Marco did with the senior staff members. Maybe this was Jean's way of politely telling him to piss off. He hadn't spoken to him directly since their conversation in the newsroom two weeks ago. Anytime that he had business with the radio, the photographer would speak with the other MC's or deal with Ymir. It was more than a hint at this point that Jean didn't want to speak to him and, in many ways, it was somewhat of a disappointment.

"How've you been?" Jean muttered from the neighboring booth.

Marco lifted his gaze from the laptop screen and pushed one of the flaps on the headphones back. Had the heat gone to his head or did the guy just speak to him?

"Excuse me?" Marco asked, now looking at Jean.

"How are you?" the photographer sighed. "God, can't you hear?"

"Sorry, I had my headphones on. I thought you weren't talking to me though."

"Fine, then I won't."

Silence, again. Both men were at a loss of what they should say or if they should say anything at all. Jean shifted in the chair, fiddled with the stack of newspapers on the table, and exchanged pleasantries with the handful of students that would stop to pick up a copy of the Nexus. He did everything he could not to look at the DJ sitting only a few feet away from him. Likewise, Marco tried to keep himself busy with fulfilling song requests, answering questions sent in by his listeners, and acknowledge the people that stopped by the stand to meet him. But the presence of another lingered in the back of his mind and gnawed at him until he couldn't handle the quiet anymore.

"Busy."

"What?" Jean asked, folding the copy of the paper he was reading in half before looking at Marco.

"I've been busy. Between my classes and work, I hardly have any time for myself. So yeah. How about you?"

Blinking for a minute Jean searched and found his voice. "Same. I didn't expect the Daily Nexus to be as hardcore as it turned out to be."

"Yeah, Levi and Keith are real hard-asses. It's a shame Petra's out for the quarter. You would've liked her."

"Wait, aren't you a broadcasting major? I thought Professor Ral only teaches print journalism classes."

"I'm a broadcast journalism major. I still had to take Journalism 101, 202, and 220 when I was a freshman. Since I'm a grad student, I only take classes that directly relate to my degree now."

"Oh," Jean said looking somewhat impressed. "What, umm, what year are you?"

"This is my last year in the master's program."

"You already have a degree?" Jean's eyes widened as his head whipped around to stare at Marco. "Wait, how old are you?"

"I have an associate's, a bachelor's, and, come this May, I'll have a master's along with twelve grand of student debt. Lovely isn't it? As for the last bit," Marco smiled awkwardly, "I don't really like talking about my age."

"What are you, thirty or something?"

"Close, but no cigar."

"Then...." Jean pried.

"I'll be twenty-seven in June. You?"

"Shit. I'll be twenty-three in April."

"Happy early birthday then." Marco beamed with a closed mouth smile.

"Dido," Jean nodded.

There was another pause of silence between them yet this time around, something had changed. They both felt like they had been stripped bare of their carefully constructed facades and were facing each other in the cruel honest light of day. Shooting him a sideways glance, Jean observed as Marco nervously rubbed the nape of his neck while tapping the down arrow on his keyboard as he searched for the next song that had been requested. A thin veil of sweat coated his soft caramel skin and reflected back the sunlight in a way that gave the brunette an ethereal glow. Jean knew that it was only a trick of the light caused by the rays bouncing off of the dew on his neck and arms but still, it was something he so desperately wanted to capture; just like that day at the beach.

Jean felt the tips of his fingers itch, wanting to reach for the camera and fire off a few shots. But his pride was too strong to be overruled. So he ignored his instinct. They remained in the suspended silence for a just a moment longer before Marco decided to make a move.

"Hey," he said hesitantly. Why was he so nervous? "Are you free on Friday after eight?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"Ymir and I host a party at the start of every semester. It's invite only and you have to be on a publication or in the department. That way, if someone breaks something, we know who to feed to the sharks," Marco laughed, doing his best to work past the sudden awkwardness.

When Jean heard Ymir's name his spirits sank. "I'll have to check my schedule but I'm probably working."

Nodding slowly, Marco glanced down at the text message that had just popped up on his phone. "Damn," he sighed looking up. "Looks like my shift is up."

"That was fast."

"Not really. I've been here since eight in the morning and it's already half past two."

"Oh," Jean spoke without really thinking about the words.

Quietly, Jean watched Marco pack his things into his faded navy canvas backpack. He left the laptop for the next host which, when the photographer looked off into the distance, was apparently Krista. She was dressed in her usual denim shorts, graphic band tee with the sleeves rolled up, and a pair of orange Keds. However, in addition to the normal attire were a pair of bubblegum pink headphones. She waved when she spotted Marco and flashed Jean a sweet smile.

"Looks like my replacement is here." Marco turned and politely reached out to shake Jeans' hand. "See you around."

When he left, Jean looked down when he felt something crumple in his hand. Unfolding the piece of lined paper, he saw an address elegantly scrawled in black ink, '8113 Puesta Del Sol, Carpinteria, Ca, 93013.' Written below was the bait, 'If you decide to play hooky.'

It was the same as if Marco had given Jean his number except this was far more intimate. This was an invitation to his home; a look into his private life which, from what he could tell, he hadn't gotten so much as a glimpse at. Jean breathed heavily, closing his eyes as he leaned back in his seat with his face aimed to the sky.

"Shit."

\-----------------

Eren laid patiently in the tall brush at the meadow's edge as he adjusted the focus on his camera. After he was done tinkering, he waited until the clouds had moved away from the late afternoon sun before taking a series of five photos. The natural light lit up the vibrant orange California poppies--highlighting their deep green stems and pitch black centers. Gently swaying in the wind, the flowers gave the illusion of a rolling wave as the force that blew them sighed throughout the expansive reserve.

It was beautiful. Too beautiful for cheap words or frivolous attempts at explaining the sheer majesty that moment held. Releasing his breath, Eren looked down at his screen to review the shots. They were alright but nothing could amount to the real thing. Marking his favorite one, the photographer made a mental note to frame that particular image when he was done with the necessary adjustments.

Behind him, Eren could hear Levi approaching his position. The mans' footsteps were light and muted; no doubt the result of years of shooting wildlife that could potentially tear your head off. Eren had seen the meme's people posted about National Geographic photographers. After talking to Levi, who was hired by the publication straight out of college, it turned out that most of the jokes were based off of truth.

"Hey," Levi announced, now just a foot or so away.

"Hey," Eren chimed as he rolled onto his back and held the camera up like it were some trophy. "Wanna take a look?"

"Hmm," the man hummed. Taking the camera from Eren's hands, he clicked through the 230 images he had in total starting with the poppies. "Looking good kid. You still need to work on that lens flare."

"I kinda like it," Eren said as he stood up and dusted himself off.

"A little is fine when it serves a purpose and adds something to the picture. But look, right here," Levi zoomed in on the conflicting flares that appeared in the first photo Eren had took of the field. "These two points of light are competing for the viewers attention. If you had moved a bit more to the left, it would have taken out that second flare and deepened the color of the flowers."

Looking up at his student, Levi smirked faintly when he saw how much of a mess Eren's hair was. Tousled about like he had rolled right out of bed, it stuck up in random sprouts--capturing the light in the chocolate strands. Reaching up, Levi plucked a poppy petal from his hair allowing a chuckle to roll deep in his lungs.

"That hair has a mind of it's own, doesn't it?"

"Sorry," Eren said beating himself up mentally as he tried to tame the unruly waves.

"It's nothing to apologize for. That's just how you naturally look."

"Well I can't stand my natural look."

"Sounds like a personal problem." Levi smirked shifting back a step before glancing down at his watch. Looking back up at the sky he murmured, "We should probably get going. It'll be dark soon and I would rather you not drive home late at night."

"You do know that I've driven at night before, right?" Eren laughed as he took his camera and switched it off. Tenderly, he placed the device back into it's padded carry bag and zipped it close.

"Yeah, I know but as your professor, I worry about your well-being although I doubt you'll ever listen. You still stay up until sunrise editing your work and then burn yourself out at school."

"Let me guess, Mikasa told you?"

"Eren," Levi said sternly though the underlying current of concern was still detectable beneath it. "You can't continue pushing yourself like this. You've already fallen asleep at your desk twice."

"I know, I know. It's just...I'm almost done with school and I want to get as much done in my junior year so I can relax next year and focus solely on the newspaper."

"I understand that but I don't want a repeat of last semester." Turning down the trail head, Levi stepped down from the small ledge that divided the path ahead of them. When Eren missed the step, he reacted, catching him by the shoulders almost instantaneously. "Watch out. You almost lobbed off your head there."

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention." Eren murmured trying to avoid eye contact. When Levi didn't let go of his shoulders, he sheepishly lifted his gaze. "Levi..?"

A rolling wind blew through the meadow and down the trail, carrying on it the smell of fresh flowers, woody musk, and floating orbs of yellow and white pollen. It wafted between them, sending a chill to race up Eren's spine. Looking deep into those mercurial pools that teased faint blue in their depths, he felt his heart throb. Levi was close; too close and it made his throat seize. Swallowing back the bundle of nerves welling up at the back of his mouth, the young man breathed quietly as he felt his shaking arms steady in Levi's palms.

Looking back up, Eren saw something register in those silver eyes. It was fast and enough to bring the instructor out of his reverie. Releasing Eren's arms, Levi took a couple of measured steps backwards. Catching the breath he did not know he had lost, he cleared his throat before looking off into the distance.

"Sorry. I was...thinking. Anyway, we should go."

Nodding quietly, Eren tried to calm his racing heart. "Yeah."

As they began to walk along the dimming path, a faint flicker of light rose from the undergrowth between the trees. Narrowing his eyes, Eren saw more dots of warm yellow appear. They wafted in animated suspension; hovering just a foot or so above the ground. Glancing to Levi, who arched an inquisitive brow, Eren stealthily maneuvered around his companion while taking the camera out of the bag. Switching into night mode, he adjusted the white balance for the dim light and turned off the flash. Pressing the shutter release, he caught the lights as they swam about in the air--dancing like fairies in the moonlight, completely unsuspecting of the prying human eyes watching them.

"I heard that a new species of fireflies had been discovered in California," Eren breathed slowly rising to his feet and Levi stood next to him. "But I didn't think it was true. Isn't this amazing?"

Wandering away from the older man, Eren's laughter could be heard echoing along the forested path as he chased the fireflies with his lens. Further back, Levi stood in disbelief and wonder as he watched the youth run about the place with wild abandon. Something tightened around his lungs, wrenching the oxygen from them in a short muted gasp when he saw Eren's smile beaming back at him after a lightning bug landed on his finger. Was the universe spinning around them or was it just the space around them that seemed to explode in that frozen moment?

"Amazing..." Levi whispered

\---------------------

Jean felt the letters on the scrap piece of paper he had shoved in the back of his pocket scream from their denim confines. He had forced himself to forget about the party, about the way Marco had slipped him the paper with his address on it when they shook hands, and that smile. 'God damn that smile!' he groaned roughly as he pulled the parchment from his pocket. He had been working all day and was at his mental breaking point. Eren had called to ask if Jean wanted to ride with him to the event but he had declined, saying something about how he didn't have time to mess around. It was a dick move and he knew it probably made Eren feel like crap even though he, more than anyone else, deserved a break.

However, if he showed up now then he'd look like a tool after dishing that jab about goofing off when there was work to be done. But that was just it. He had already completed all of his homework, the labs for his biology class, and he had pressed the photo's his boss at the Independent had given him to touch up on Wednesday. Jean was literally twiddling his thumbs because he had so much free time on his hands. Chewing at his bottom lip, he thought about the pro's and con's of the two decisions he could make at that moment. It did not take long for his resolve to snap, compelling him to move from his desk. Yanking on his favorite dark grey flecked hoodie, he pulled on his olive green low-top Converse and grabbed his car keys before turning the lights off and locking up.

It didn't take long to drive to the address Marco had given Jean. However, he felt a twinge of deja vu when he saw that the beach front property was literally a five minute walk from the shoreline where he and Marco had first met. 'Is this the right address?' Jean wondered as he pulled up the street--searching each side for the numbers on the mailboxes. Halfway down the road he noticed the cars lining the sides; a sure sign of a party happening nearby. Knowing that there wouldn't be space up ahead, Jean pulled over and parked about a block away.

Exiting the trooper, he shivered at the sudden onset of the chilled marine layer. The dense haze wrapped around every house, tree, and lamp post and muted the sounds of crashing waves off in the distance. Approaching the house, Jean took in how warm and inviting it looked. Corralling the residence was a brown picket fence with succulents and native flowering plants boarding the entry. Beyond that was a stone walkway with freshly laid sod and saplings propped up by bamboo poles. Between the connected garage and front was a porch that was currently occupied by party-goer's playing beer pong. Secured against the wall were seven different surfboards, each with its own purpose and use. Jean's eyes landed on the board at the top of the wall because of its enormous size and the wear and tear that graced its surface. But despite the scuffs and dings, the board looked like it was loved and used often; enough so that its dual flat black racing stripes down the center had begun to fade.

Silently nodding his greeting to a number of both familiar and not so familiar faces, Jean entered the house instantly blown away by how large it was. Where outside it seemed small, inside it was cavernous and tastefully decorated. Everything exuded that relaxed California lifestyle. The ceilings were made of exposed and stained wood with deep mahogany beams that contrasted the dove gray walls and polished ashen wood floors. If it had been the daytime, the large windows and glass slider doors would have allowed enough light in to render electrical lights useless.

But right now the overhead floodlights had been set to a cool dim glow that highlighted the sea of bodies dancing in what must have been the living room. To the right was the hall way that led to the bedrooms, one of the two bathrooms, and the backyard. People lingered in groups of two's, three's, five's and sometimes six's if there was a deep conversation at hand. Navigating the crowd, Jean worked his way toward the kitchen, relieved to see Eren and one of the new reporters, Sam, chatting with Taylor, a photographer that Jean had worked with on a water polo story last Thursday.

Spotting Jean, Eren shimmied past a pair of guys trying to their hand at mixing drinks and hugged him.

"I thought you couldn't make it." Eren shouted over the music.

"I finished work earlier than expected. Sorry if I sounded like a dick on the phone," Jean said following Eren back into the kitchen. "It's been weird week and I wasn't even sure if I wanted to come."

"It's alright. I understand what you mean by not knowing if you want to go. But you're here now so relax and have fun."

"Yeah," he smirked taking the Sapporo Eren knowingly handed him. Glancing around he continued, "I didn't know that there were this many people in the department. How do the advisors keep track of them all?"

"Beats me. But we do have one of the largest departments on campus and almost everyone knows Marco and Ymir so..." Eren opened his arms as if to say that the crowd was proof of their popularity.

Laughing halfheartedly, Jean took a long swig from his forty ounce. "So what are they, the power couple or something?"

Choking back his laughter, Eren grinned. "Something like that."

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just funny how pissed you look when he comes up in conversation."

"Whatever. He gets on my nerves is all."

"Right, that's what it is," Taylor smirked, arching a single brow as she took a drink from her red dixie cup.

Did everyone know that he was bent? Clicking his tongue Jean turned away from them, resting his elbows against the granite counter top of the kitchen island. Looking across the swaying mass of people, he spotted Marco doing what he did best, well second best. Grooving to the music with both eyes closed, the tall brunette instinctively pushed at buttons on the mixing board that had been set up in the far corner of the living room in front of a twelve foot surfboard with red and black stripes. Next to him was Ymir, his ever-present shadow. They were so at ease with each other that even their music selections jived. Dancing to the beat, she pressed her back to his, resting her head on his shoulder. Smiling brightly, Marco reached over and playfully pinched her elfin nose. It was sweet; too sweet.

Jean felt his stomach knot up and his blood churn. Pounding back his beer, he grabbed another. He was nowhere near as buzzed as he needed to be to handle seeing that. Yeah, he thought Marco was hot but did he have to suffer every day watching those two flirt? Whatever. Jean was already there so he'd find a way to have fun and forget that stupid smile.

Opposite of the open kitchen and dining area, Marco tapped his foot along to the Youth album version of Matisyahu's "King without a Crown." It was one of his favorite reggae songs and one of his top artists. Matching it to Ymir's selection of samba, they bumped against one another in the close space that made up the DJ stand. When she rested her head against his back, he craned his back and tapped her forehead with the back of his head. Kissing him through the thick of hair, she then pushed him away with her free hand and settled back into picking the next song.

Laughing when she pushed him away, Marco turned to her and made a face as he bit his tongue. Narrowing her feline eyes, her grin curled up mischievously as she dropped the beat. Mouthing the opening to "Talk Dirty" by Jason Derulo, she taunted her brother before turning to her sound board and muting the track so that the room was filled with just the roaring collective voice of everyone shouting "Talk Dirty To Me!" Bobbing her head up and down, Ymir spotted Krista in the crowd. The blonde was dancing with that duchess, Gottesman but they kept it casual. Everyone in the newsroom and on the radio knew that Krista was her girl. Pivoting to the right, the woman in question looked up and smirked at Ymir as she put on a little show for her. Bending over slowly, then tracing the movement back up while arching her spine, Krista whipped around and dropped it low, straight into a spread eagle. It was almost torture for Ymir to stay where she was and not pull Krista into one of the guest bedrooms.

Averting her eyes before her resolve could crumble any more, the sister spotted something--more like someone--that could provide a bit of entertainment. Staring down Jean, Ymir poked Marco in the neck. Removing his right earphone he asked her what was up. Kissing him on the cheek, her grin was ablaze with fiendish playfulness and her brother could see it. Confused for a brief moment, she pushed his head with her slender finger on his chin until his line of sight connected with Jeans.

Marco felt the heated energy behind Jeans' amber eyes knock the wind right out of him. Biting his lip, the photographer excused himself from his conversation with Eren and Taylor. Booking it toward the back door, he shot Marco a final glance that bordered on a defeated glare. Shifting to look at Ymir, he knew that she had done it on purpose. Why she was intent of meddling in his private life, he could not tell. But it was starting to piss him off and two could play that game.

Whistling at Krista, he waved down the petite blonde. Leaning across the sound mixer, he asked if she could take over his sound board for him while he caught some air. Nodding, Krista walked around to the back of the set up and grabbed the headphones he had handed her. Adjusting them to her size, she gave him the thumbs up as he left the riser. Grinning like a cat at Ymir, he waved at his frowning sister and told her to have fun.

Finally free with Ymir shackled to the DJ stand, he could get to work sorting out the trouble brewing with Jean. He was genuinely surprised that he had showed. But to watch him leave like that pissed Marco off. This wasn't how he wanted things to pan out. Pausing for a moment, he tried putting himself in the others' shoes. If he were an angry introverted tragic artist, where would he storm off to? It was almost comical how quickly the answer popped into his head.

Making a beeline for the slider, Marco slipped past his guests--doing his best to be polite as he excused himself. Walking along the stone path of the front yard, he broke into a jog as he headed to the beach. Carefully skipping steps on the driftwood stairwell, he ran around the curve of the shore that made up the Indicator. Coming out on the other side, Marco's hopeful smile fell when he didn't see anyone walking along the beach. He stood there painted silver by the full moon wondering if maybe he had ran past Jean or maybe missed him as he headed back. Or maybe he hadn't gone to the beach. Maybe he left and was certain to never speak to him again. Clasping both hands at the back of his head, Marco crouched down letting a long anguished groan escape him.

"What are you doing?" spoke a familiar voice.

Opening his eyes, Marco saw Jean sitting on a sun-bleached log under the shelter of a sycamore tree. He had taken his shoes off and sat them down next to him but kept his jacket on. It was a funny reversal in the sense that now Marco was on his knees in the sand gawking at Jean. Feeling the smile return to his features, the brunette stood up shoving both hands in his pockets.

"I was looking for you actually. It's not a good idea to be out here on your own when the waves are this high at night."

"Really? Well, I'll keep that in mind."

"You sound upset. Did I do something?" Of course he did; well, Ymir did but that was besides the point.

"No," Jean said then retracted his statement. "Yes. I don't know anymore. Look, could you just leave me alone?"

"Why?"

"Because you piss me off."

"And why is that?" Marco asked stepping closer, fully aware that he was pushing his luck.

"We're not playing twenty questions Marco. Just leave me alone."

"But you didn't answer my question and, technically speaking, I have partial ownership of this beach since I'm a resident."

"Fine, then I'll leave." Jean got up, grabbing his shoes as his frown deepened. When Marco stuck his arm out in front of him to block the path, he just glared at the walk ahead. "Move out of the way."

When he didn't comply, Jean shoved his arm away to which Marco responded by grabbing Jeans wrist. Struggling against the brunette's strength for a brief second, the shorter male wrestled his arm free. Taking a step back , he glared at Marco feeling just about ready to hit him in that pretty face of his.

"Why are you always so pissed when I'm around?"

"I'm not angry."

"Like fucking hell you aren't. Honestly now Jean, what's your problem? Tell me and I'll leave you alone."

"My problem is you flirting with your fucking girlfriend in front of me and then having the nerve to try to make a move on me!" Jean finally snapped. "My problem is that I wish you weren't taken. My problem is that stupid smile of yours and your eyes and just you in general, Marco. That is my fucking problem!"

"Wait, what girlifriend? I don't have a girlfriend Jean."

"Fine, fuck buddy. Whatever you and Ymir call it. The point is--" Jean stopped when Marco began laughing uncontrollably. "And now you're mocking me. Great, well I half expected this."

"I'm not mocking you Jean. And Ymir isn't my girlfriend. She's my overly protective older sister."

The words broke over Jean like a series of strong blows to the head. "Bullshit," he breathed.

"I'm being serious, Jean."

"Then why is she always clinging to you and hanging around you?"

"She's the only family I have out here. She likes keeping an eye on me but because we're so close, she sometimes forgets that I'm an adult and can make my own decisions."

Stuck in place, Jean couldn't grasp the realization that should have been dawning over him. "She's your sister?" he said again, still unable to believe it.

"Yes, my sister," Marco said as he closed the gap between them. Taking Jean's cold hand in his, Marco stared at their joined palms for a long moment, listening to the waves gently crash along the shore. "Do you have anymore questions? Or does that answer cover it?"

"No," Jean breathed as Marco slid his other hand along his jawline to cup his face. Letting him tilt his head up, Jean had to steady his breathing when he saw those warm honeyed eyes gazing into his. "That's all."

Marco smiled softly as he moved to graze his lips against Jeans. "Good," he whispered before pressing into him, closing the final bit of space.

Jean's heart erupted when he felt Marco's warm mouth move against his. Driven by instinct and want, he craned his head back to deepen the embrace. Holding onto Marco's shirt, Jean waited until his legs stopped shaking to reach up and wrap his arms around the brunettes' neck. Smiling against his lips, the taller man secured his right arm around the other's waist while the left moved higher to frame Jean's face with his hand.

Breaking the kiss, Jean nuzzled into the palm of the hand cupping his jaw. He reveled in how warm it was. How it seemed to radiate heat as if Marco were the sun and he were the moon, straining to catch just a bit more of the magnificent light. Turning back to capture Marco's lips again, their open mouths met in a heated embrace. Jean didn't mind giving up control to the other man. The sensation of their tongues sliding against one another as if they were meant to be joined together and Marco's tightening grip on him was enough to send Jean over the edge. He realized that he wanted nothing more than to stay like this, frozen in time breathing in this perfect hideously sweet moment.

Pulling away for air, Marco rested his forehead against Jeans; placing a soft kiss on his nose. "Are we good?"

Nodding, Jean cleared his throat. "Yeah, we're good. So," he dragged out the word trying to assemble the words in his head. "What does this make us? I mean, is this just causal or...?"

"I'd prefer it if it weren't just a casual fling. I was actually going to ask you out before Ymir pulled that stunt and shit all over my plans."

"Well, her scheme backfired on her." Jean chuckled pulling Marco closer until there wasn't even a fraction of an inch between their bodies. He needed that strong frame and pure warmth to keep him up because he couldn't rely on his limbs at the moment.

"Yeah, I guess it did." Marco rested his cheek on the side of Jean's head, kissing his temple then the outside of his ear and down his jaw to his lips where he planted a soft feather-light kiss. "Should I ask you out now or later?"

"Really Marco?"

Chuckling, the brunette hummed deep in his throat as a smile tugged at his perfect lips. "Do you want to go out sometime for coffee? Maybe pay an absurd amount of money to see a shitty movie and eat over-salted popcorn."

"Or we could do something fun."

"Ouch, my pride." Marco smirked. Kissing Jean again he then had a thought. "How about I take you sightseeing since you're still new to the area? I know some places that are a photographer's delight."

"So long as it doesn't involve a surfboard, we're good."

"Right," the brunette laughed as they took in the last few precious moments before they had to leave. "We should get going. Ymir will send out a search party if I'm not back soon."

"Fine," Jean sighed as they parted. Holding tightly to his hand, Jean gave it a gentle squeeze. "She won't try to do anything will she? About us, I mean."

"No, I think she got the message before I left." Lifting their clasped hands, Marco kissed the back of Jeans' before he let them fall in between them. "Come on. Let's go home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marco's "Mellow Out" Playlist
> 
> -"Honey and the Moon" by Joseph Arthur  
> -"Dice" by Finley Quaye and William Orbit  
> -"Caught by the River" by Doves  
> -"California" (Tchad Blake Remix) by Phantom Planet  
> -"Waves" by Bahamas  
> -"King without a Crown (Shake The Dust Off...Arise Version)" by Matisyahu  
> -"He Mele No Lilo" by Mark Keali'i Ho'omalu and the Kamehameha Schools Children's Chorus  
> -"Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride" by Mark Keali'i Ho'omalu and the Kamehameha Schools Children's Chorus  
> -"How Much Can You Swallow" by Bombay Bicycle Club  
> -"Belle" by Jack Johnson  
> -"Better Together" by Jack Johnson  
> -"Somewhere Over The Rainbow" by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole  
> -"1940" by The Submarines  
> -"King Without A Crown (Youth Version)" by Matisyahu  
> -"Renegade Survivor" by The Wailing Souls  
> -"I'm A Rainbow Too" by Bob Marley  
> -"Weightless" by Nada Surf  
> -"Beautiful Beat" by Nada Surf  
> -"Missed the Boat" by Modest Mouse  
> -"I could die for you" by The Red Hot Chili Peppers  
> -"Venice Queen" by The Red Hot Chili Peppers  
> -"Can't Stop" by The Red Hot Chili Peppers  
> -"Say It Ain't So" by Weezer  
> -"Come and get You Love" by Redbone  
> -"Feel It All Around" by Washed Out  
> -"Last High" by The Dandy Warhols  
> -"Drown" by Smashing Pumpkins  
> -"Today" by Smashing Pumpkins  
> -"Beautiful People" by Sam Ock  
> -"Banana Pancakes" by Jack Johnson  
> -"Brightest Hour" by The Submarines  
> -"Flightless Bird, American Mouth" by Iron & Wine
> 
> I hope ya'll enjoy the jams. Easy listening friends and look forward to the playlists that will be attached to the chapters.


	5. Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi breaks the news about an upcoming conference to the newsroom and radio staff; Marco and Jean go on their first date and adjust to their budding relationship
> 
>  
> 
> \------Warning!: This is another long chapter with a lot of feels and sizzling fluff (I'm making it a thing!). Just a heads up.
> 
> \----The conference depicted in the chapters is fictional. It is based off of Journalism Association of California Community Colleges or "JACC/JACCC." That's right, there are journalism conventions. And they rock!

"Okay guys, the list of dates and times for JACCU has been posted and there are fourteen different mail-in competitions." Levi stated from his spot at the podium. The newsroom was charged and tense; like the damp air before a lightning storm. "In addition to that, there will be eighteen on-the-spot competitions. Keith and I have entered us in all thirty-two categories."

There was a collective groan from the staff of student journalists. The Journalism Association of California Colleges and Universities was the largest conference for mass media and journalism majors and winning an award from the prestigious organization was akin to being handed a golden ticket that would grant the holder access to a career with any of the Big Five publications in the US. However, the advisers, it seemed, were a bit over zealous. The Nexus and KCSB had swept the year before, winning a record breaking eighteen awards--first and second place every time. They had even been awarded the Pacesetter Award and the Best In Show for the fifth year in a row. They were the school to beat.

But competing in all thirty-two categories was asking for someone to dethrone them and that idea did not sit well with the majority of the senior staff.

Glancing to her gobsmacked brother who was still reeling, Ymir leaned forward in her seat, folding both arms down onto the desk in front of her. She was the only person in the room, apart from the advisers and Marco, who had attended the conference more than twice. Both siblings knew that it could be a great opportunity to network and potentially land a job with a publication or station. But it was also tough and, at times, the other students could be vicious and derail the entire experience.

Raising her hand, Ymir waited for Levi to wrap up what he was saying before calling on her. When he spotted her silent gesture, he paused. "What is it, Ymir?"

"You and Keith entered us in thirty-two events that are supposed to take place in the time span of four days. Some of these are back to back and more than half of them take place off-site. Do you really think such a green staff with only a handful of senior reporters, editors, and managers can handle that kind of schedule? I mean," she huffed feeling more than exasperated by the whole situation, "I'm supposed to judge four competitions and mediate the roundtable for program directors. I can't do all that and compete at the same time. And I doubt Marco can stand in for me while attending the mandatory meetings and workshops for station managers."

"If I didn't think you guys could handle it I wouldn't have entered us in all of the categories." Levi stated rather confidently. He knew he was pushing the team but it wasn't anything they couldn't take. "I know it's a lot and, at one point, I was in the same position that I am putting you all in. But this is meant to be a learning experience; not a fight for first place. Each photographer, editor, page designer, reporter, and MC has been entered in one competition. The only one's doubling up are a handful of writers and photographers because the competitions they're in take place on different days."

Looking more than a bit uneasy, Eren chimed in. "The last time we were entered in back to back competitions, some of us were barred because our first category was too similar to the second on-spot competition were we in. And even if that isn't an issue this year, there's still the bit about not having enough time to write the piece or, in my case, work on the photo before the submission deadline. Remember last year when there was that accident in San Jose that held up two buses full of reporters who were on their way back from an off-site competition? They couldn't make it back in time to submit a full work and they were all disqualified."

"I understand that Eren and I have aired these concerns to the committee and judge panel. There have been adjustments made to the policy to ensure that that doesn't happen again," Levi said, eyeing the photo editor as he sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Trust me guys, I know what I'm doing. All of you are more than capable of pulling this off. It's kind of upsetting though to see how poorly you all are taking the news."

"And don't forget that you'll have Levi and I around if you need any quick advice," Professor Shadis said from his seat at the editors table. "We can't pull strings or anything, but we are allowed to advise and critique your work before submission."

"Right," Levi nodded once sharply before turning back to the class. "I'll post the list of competitions after lecture today so you can see what category you're entered in. Also, I'll put up a carpool sign-up sheet. Keep in mind that this is going to be a very long drive and you should have someone in your car that can swap spots with you in case you get tired on the way there or back. And if you drive a manual, make sure someone in the carpool knows how to work a stick too. I am not having a repeat of the 2015 fiasco."

Leaning to the side, Jean whispered to Taylor, "What's the 2015 fiasco?"

"A group of our writers were driving back together and one of them said they knew how to drive a stick. But when the two swapped spots, the guy ended up burning out his friends engine. Turns out he didn't know anything about manual cars."

"Fuck."

"Yeah. So since then, Levi has the secondary driver do laps up and down the campus a day before we leave to make sure they know what they're doing."

"Well I can't blame him."

"Neither can I," Taylor smirked. 

After the lengthy announcement and short debate over the competition entries, the radio team was dismissed and the remaining staff was given a twenty minute break before the lab and lecture portion of class started. Stepping outside, Jean sat down on the steps of the main building in the Storke Communications Plaza. His mom and sister, Charlotte had been texting him throughout class about coming home for his birthday. It hadn't even been two months since he had left New York, and they were already trying to coax him into leaving California. Jeans' father on the other hand, encouraged his son to pursue a career in photojournalism even if it meant missing him in another state. It was an understanding that they had for one another. After all, Jeans old man was a photographer himself and had spent his fair share of time away from home for the sake of higher education.

Murmuring to himself as he was double-teamed by Charlotte and his overly concerned mother, Jean hadn't seen Marco exit the building behind him or sit down on the cement steps just a fraction of an inch to his left. Sighing quietly, the brunette leaned over and rested his head on the photographers' shoulder. Jumping in place at the sudden contact, Jean jerked his head to the side.

"Shit, you scared me," he breathed out.

"Mmmm," Marco hummed. "Sorry 'bout that." Closing his eyes, Marco rolled his head up so that he could catch the rays of sunshine on his skin. Smiling at the wash of warmth, he nuzzled into Jean. "So I noticed that you're entered in the competitions for Breaking News Photography and Feature Story Photo."

"Yeah. I don't think it'll matter though because Eren's entered in those too."

"So?"

"Have you seen his work?" Jean turned a little to glance down into Marco's eyes. "Eren is far more impressive than I am. That guy was born with a camera in his hand."

"And you weren't? Jean, you're more talented than you give yourself credit for. I know for a fact that the pictures you submit for the paper don't even scrape at your potential." Kissing Jean's neck softly, Marco nosed the crook of his jaw before he sighed, "Stop comparing yourself to your friend and just have fun. You'll be fine; trust me."

"I do." Jean smirked, surprised at the truth in his words.

In the past month, he had gone from mindlessly ogling Marco on the beach to sitting on the steps of the communications building cozening up next to him. Even stranger was how right it felt. Jean had never been this comfortable with a significant other. His previous ex's were a series of letdowns and mutual separations. No one clicked and he thought he would wind up living alone for the remainder of his years. But then a man with honest eyes and an intoxicating smile floated into his life and disrupted the balance. They hadn't even gone on an official date yet but Jean didn't need one to know he was going to fall even deeper for Marco. It wasn't a matter of "if" so much as it was a question of how long it would take.

Resting his head on top of Marco's, Jean breathed in that refreshing and distinct scent of sunblock with crisp clean pops of citrus. It was like inhaling the smell of the beach and ocean waves on a cool morning in early June; bright and cheerful while still calming. Marco really was the embodiment of summertime. Everything from his personality to his youthful zeal. He was almost Jean's polar opposite which, to his shock, didn't annoy him. Feeling their breathing synchronize, Jean closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate the sunshine too. They lingered in the peaceful silence for another moment before Marco broke the spell.

"You know we only have three more days until JACCU and we still haven't gone on that date."

Smirking, Jean nudged him gently in the side. "Sorry, I've been busy and forgot."

"You know if I weren't so into you, I'd probably have been offended by that." Marco chuckled. "So what do you say to rock climbing tonight? There's an indoor climbing gym that has some pretty intense routes."

"How did you know that I like climbing?"

"I guessed. The night of the party, there was some white dust on your jacket by the cuffs of your sleeves. Since you didn't seem to be tripping, I figured it was something sports related. There's also pictures of you climbing Stawamus Chief with Eren, Mikasa, and Annie on Eren's facebook page."

"You're facebook stalking me now?"

"No. This was before we met. I was the managing editor for the Nexus when Eren was a freshman and I had to do a background check on him like we do all people hoping to sign on. You look so different now, I didn't even recognize you as the guy from the photo's."

"You were a managing editor for the Nexus? Let me guess, Ymir was the EIC?"

"Actually, no. She was the opinions editor. The guy I was managing for is an old friend of mine. He's long moved on to bigger better things like teaching you and Eren how to fix the resolution and focus of your pictures."

"Wait, you were Levi's managing?!" Jean gawked, completely floored by the revelation.

"Yeah. You know he isn't that much older than me."

"I know but still." Jean muttered.

Charmed by how embarrassed Jean seemed to have become, Marco tilted his head and kissed his jaw. "So, what do you say? Want to go out tonight for some early evening climbing? Or we could take a long walk along the beach and watch the sun set."

Jean rolled his eyes and shook his head at the partial seriousness of Marco's tone when he pitched the second option for their date. "I honestly don't care where we go. You're right, I am an avid rock climber but I may be too tired tonight to keep up with you on the walls."

"Hmm, well then I think I have just the thing. It's a short hike but well worth the view."

"Sounds ideal. Where at?"

"That's my secret to keep until later tonight. I'll drive since you don't know where we're heading."

"'Kay. Where are we meeting up?"

"You live close by right? If you don't mind, I could swing by and pick you up at your place when I wrap up with my show tonight."

"Alright," Jean said glancing down at his phone when the device vibrated in his palm. "Eren's telling me to come back in. I guess lab is starting."

"I'll let you get going then," Marco grunted as he straightened out. Standing up, he gave Jean a hand. Pulling the photographer close, Marco kissed him sweetly on the lips--lingering just long enough so that he could get enough of a taste that it'd last him the rest of the day. "See you later. Oh, and don't worry about climbing shoes or shit like that. Tennis shoes, a tee shirt, and sweats are fine."

Nodding, Jean tried to hide his light blushing by dipping his head to the side even though his tell tale rubbing of his neck gave him away. "'Kay. See you later."

\----------------------

It was half past 9:00 p.m. and Marco would be pulling up to the apartment complex any minute now yet Jean was still trying to figure out what to wear. True, Marco had told him not to fuss over his clothes but how could he take that when it came from a living breathing Grecian God? Growling past his teeth, Jean rifled through the heap of clothes spread across his bed. He was about to reach for a black and white Gorillaz raglan shirt when his cell went off. Picking it up from the nightstand, Jean opened the text message.

MARCO: Here. Hurry up and pick something to wear and come down.

JEAN: Why do you assume I'm still getting dressed?

MARCO: Because I can see you through your bedroom window.

Snapping his head up, Jean looked out the window in front of him and saw Marco wave from the car in the parking lot. Quirking a brow, the photographer shot out a text then looked at his date.

JEAN: You know I could report you for invading my privacy.

Smirking, Marco fired back then pointed down at his phone while gazing at Jean.

MARCO: Yeah, well you're in the wrong too. Stripping with your windows open is indecent exposure. I don't mind but I doubt you want the people walking by to see you half naked.

Frowning, Jean yanked the curtain closed and grabbed a pair of black jogging pants, a white raglan shirt with dark navy horizontal stripes, his olive green low top converse, and the forest green cargo jacket with the standing collar that he hadn't worn since the day he moved in. Slipping on his black frame glasses, Jean exited his apartment and locked up before heading downstairs.

"You know it isn't indecent exposure if I am within the confines of my own home," Jean said as he approached the car with both hands nestled his pant pockets. "So where are we going?"

Eyeing him for a long moment, an appreciative smile pulled at Marco's lips. "I didn't know you wore glasses." Unlocking the door as Jean reached for the handle, he watched him slide into the passenger seat and buckle up--dragging his gaze up and down him one more time. "You look good."

"Says Adonis." Jean laughed shortly. "Yeah, I've had a prescription for about two years now. I can't stand contacts because they dry out my eyes but glasses get in the way so I end up using neither."

"You mean to tell me you've been taking those phenomenal pictures with blurry vision this whole time?"

"My vision isn't that bad and you really are exaggerating."

"Says the guy who called me an Adonis." Marco snorted as he put the car in gear. "And we're going somewhere that's kinda close by. It should take about thirty minutes if there isn't traffic."

"Mhmm," Jean hummed, already reclined back in his seat with his head against the window. "How did the show go?"

"Hmm? Oh, it was alright. I keep getting these weird email requests from listeners that just are too much sometimes."

"Were they from that Kat girl?"

"No, she's cool." Marco shook his head. Switching on the fog lights as they entered the thickening marine layer that had rolled in, the brunette adjusted the heating of the drivers cabin. "It's a couple of people sending them in and I can usually handle some weirdness, but it's getting to be too much."

"What was the weirdest you got?"

"What, tonight or in general?"

"Tonight."

Thinking for a moment as he mentally sorted through the requests that came in, Marco settled on one that stuck out. "There was this listener that wanted me to talk dirty to her on the air because she gets off to my voice. Or at least that's what she wrote."

"Seriously?" Jean said, half laughing and half choking.

"Yeah. She's sent in similar requests before but I've never obliged."

"Well I can't blame her," Jean said flatly as he stared out the windshield watching the the headlights illuminate the path ahead. "You're voice is pretty hot."

"Nah, this is just how I always sound. And if I were to seduce someone over the air, it wouldn't be a woman for that matter."

"So you are gay?" Jean asked without even thinking about it. When he heard the question leave his mouth though, he immediately felt a rush of embarrassment. "Sorry, I didn't mean to just ask like that."

"It's alright, you have a right to know." Marco shrugged with a single shoulder; dipping his head to meet the rise of movement. "I'm bisexual but I prefer men if I'm being completely honest. I knew I was different since I was ten but I didn't come out to my parents until I was sixteen. They didn't think anything of it though so long as the person I wound up with made me happy. How about you?"

"I'm totally bent. My older sister knew I was gay before I did but she was like your parents and didn't think twice about it; same as my dad."

"And your mom?"

Jean licked his lips then bit the left corner of his bottom lip. "She's waiting for me to find the right girl to settle down with."

"Oh." Marco voiced quietly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean--"

"It's fine to be honest. She didn't want me to move to California not because it was far from home but because she was afraid that the liberal politics and high gay population would encourage me to 'stray' and become sexually deviant. Needless to say, I don't talk to her much."

They were quiet for a long minute as the revelation hang in the air. It was going to come out one way or another and Jean wanted to be as honest with Marco as possible. He was taking a big step forward and was praying that it wouldn't be into oblivion. This was the first time he felt compelled to bear such sensitive information to someone on the first day. Now it was Marco's turn to tell him if his trust was ill received.

"You know," he began as both golden brown eyes stared ahead. "I feel bad for your mother. She can't work past her expectations to see the fine son she has raised."

"Damn." Jean murmured under his breath.

"What? What did I say?"

"Nothing," he smirked to himself.

Pulling into to the parking lot at the base of the trailhead, whose gates had been chained shut for the evening, Marco killed the engine and unfastened his seat belt. Smiling without so much as a word, he got out and walked around to the passenger side. Opening the door, he chuckled when Jean rolled his eyes and said something about him being "too much of a fucking gentleman." Briefly opening the trunk, the brunette grabbed two water bottles; tossing one to Jean after giving him the heads up.

Once the car was locked, the men began their trek up the dirt path. Using the flashlight feature on their phones, they carefully walked along while keeping an eye out for rocks or loose gravel that could come loose and cause one of them to fall. Chatting casually about the days events and the upcoming conference, Jean felt completely at ease with Marco. Nothing seemed forced and the conversation flowed naturally. They could talk about anything and then nothing and still be comfortable. He hadn't even noticed that he had slowly begun gravitating toward the brunette.

Jean could feel the intense warmth radiating off of Marco just as if he'd been out in the sun only a moment ago. Sensing the photographers' presence nearing him, Marco smiled almost shyly and took Jeans' hand in his. It was an innocent gesture akin to elementary school sweethearts holding hands on the playground. Yet the touch of Marco's skin against his sent his heart racing. The man really did have an undeniable power over him and he couldn't stop himself from wanting to lean into it. So, with a small smile, Jean adjusted his hand so that their fingers laced together--locking their palms flat against one another.

Giving the cool hand in his a gentle squeeze, Marco looked at Jean for a beat before directing his gaze to the trail. They came up on the clearing ahead to find that no one else was there. It was just them amidst the remnants of Knapp's Castle--an old stone manor that had fallen into ruin. Nothing remained except for the massive plateau foundation, a row of stone archways, and the lower fountains and pool. Without thinking, Jean let go of Marco's hand, walking ahead of him until reaching the very edge of the structure. Gazing out of the Santa Ynez Valley and Lake Cachuma from what seemed like the top of the world, Jean happily allowed the sight to take his breath away. He could see the marine layer creeping over the hills and mountains below; rolling in like some fearsome storm. Above them was a carpet of glittering stars that stretched out in every direction; each a brilliant white flickering as if to wink at the humans who stood there gawking on earth millions of miles away. Taking a deep breath, Jean closed his eyes and lifted his arms up to either side of his body as a long rush of wind barreled through the canyon.

Watching the photographer as he enjoyed himself, Marco sat down on the cool stone steps that led into the main section of the ruins. He had been right in assuming that Jean would like Knapp's Castle. Smiling when Jean whipped out his phone and began firing off pictures, the brunette allowed himself a chuckle. Snapping a picture of the enthusiastic man and saving it for later, Marco quickly tucked his cell back in his pant pocket.

"This place is amazing," Jean beamed spinning around to look at his companion who was watching him from the stairs. "You can see the entire valley from here."

"Mmm," he smiled lazily. Blinking away the onset drowsiness that tugged at his eyelids, Marco did his best to stifle a small yawn. "I come here a lot when I need time to myself. It's usually packed with tourists on the weekend but hardly anyone comes up to the ruins during the evening."

"You look tired." Jean said as he closed the distance between the them. Reaching out with his hand, he cupped Marco's face while sweetly thumbing his jawline. "How long of a drive is it from here to your place?"

"A little less than an hour."

"Which is...?"

"Forty-five minutes give or take."

"Jesus," Jean breathed. Watching as Marco grabbed onto his waist and pulled him closer so that he could rest his head on his stomach, a thought occurred to him. "How about you stay the night at my place?"

Marco jerked his head up. "What?"

"You're dead tired and I don't want you driving on the highway when you can hardly keep your eyes open." Swaying slowly in the brunette's hold, Jean raked a hand through that soft silken chestnut hair. "All we're going to do is sleep so it's not a big deal. Besides, it'd make me feel better knowing that you're safe and not dangling off a cliff face because you had fallen asleep at the wheel."

"Well when you put it like that," Marco murmured into the warm firm press of Jeans' stomach.

"So it's settled?"

Nodding his response at first, Marco yawned before he looked up at Jean, his chin planted just above the dip of the photographers' navel. "Yeah, I'll spend the night."

"Good." Jean leaned down using both hands to push Marco's hair away from his face before kissing his forehead, nose, then lips; taking a moment to savor them and how they fit perfectly against his. "Should we start heading back?"

"But we've only been here for twenty minutes? Seems like a shitty way to end our first date."

"Marco, you'll be too tired to drive in another thirty minutes and I think you passing out in my bed is a fantastic way to end the evening." Jean stated with a firm sense of authority in his tone. "We're both students and working our asses off. I'm not going to bitch about you being tired okay. I get it."

"Fine," Marco groaned. Standing up, albeit, rather weakly, the brunette collected Jean into his arms for another tender chaste kiss. Sighing as they parted, he opened his eyes and jerked his head toward the trail. "Shall we then?"

Taking a hold of Marco's hand, Jean knocked his shoulder playfully against the others'. "Yeah, let's go home."

\--------------------

Unlocking the front door, Jean flipped on the lights. As he entered, the photographer slipped off his shoes and put them on a worn wooden rack next to a pair of beaten up hiking boots that had been scrubbed clean and two sets of La Sportiva climbing shoes. On the left hand wall above the rack was a chalkboard with a wooden shelf and hanging hooks attached to the bottom of the fixture. Scrawled across the black surface were memo's to buy orange juice, pick up some rolls of film from the shop, do laundry, call the optometrist, and pick up heart med's.

"Heart med's?" Marco murmured as he read aloud to himself. Turning to look at Jean who was opening the fridge in the well furnished kitchen to the right, the brunette's brows knitted together in confusion. "You have a heart condition?"

"Uhh, kinda?" Jean said as he reached for a blue bottle of Bliss by Neuro. Unscrewing the cap he to a sip while elbowing the door close before the cold air could escape. "I have tachycardia and ventricular fibrillation." When he saw how clueless Marco was he relented. "Basically I have an abnormal heart beat and, at times, it can race without any real cause. I got it from my mom's side of the family."

"And yet you still drink coffee?"

"Coffee is fine. Espresso is different."

"Damn. And I thought Jaeger had it hard with that insomnia." Leaning against bar style kitchen counter that separated the cooking area from the large living room, Marco took the bottle from Jeans' hand a sipped at its contents. "What is this? It tastes like...raspberries?"

"It's a natural sleep aid. This helped me survive the two years of community college I endured before moving."

"Hmm," Marco hummed taking another sip before handing it back to Jean. "So, you have a heart condition. What other secrets are you hiding?"

"I thought you were tired."

"I perk up for a little while before I crash. Come on, out with 'em. I want to meet the skeletons hiding in your closet."

A sharp laugh racked through Jean. "There's not much to know. I haven't lived long enough to have anything worth mentioning."

Leaving the kitchen, the photographer entered the main living space. The entire apartment was a tasteful mix between industrial decor and European accents. It was masculine without being pretentious or showy. Everything was perfectly arranged and not an foot of space was squandered. Between the farthest wall and the cooking area was a large cognac brown leather couch that looked well-loved. Tossed across the back of it was a heavy plaid wool blanket and a grey faux owl feather throw. Plopping down on the plush cushions, Jean relaxed into the seat as he let his head fall back. Marco followed suit and took the spot directly to the others' left; sighing as he sank into the soft leather and felt the woolen blanket dust the nape of his neck.

In front of the couch was a large square table with a glass top. Beneath the clear removable surface was a backgammon board game. The pieces were still in the last places they had been set down the night Eren threw the house warming party for Jean. Across from that was a mounted flatscreen TV with a rough wood cabinet below it that contained all manner of movies, video games, and books from art, photography, philosophy and astronomy to forensic science, East Asian folklore, and the collective photography from National Geographic. 

At the back of the large open area was a series of four windows that backlit the sturdy dining table made of blonde stained planks of oak and bound together by a wrought iron frame. Six matching chairs with canvas seat cushions painted with different Toulouse-Lautrec pictures bordered the table. Above the eating area hung a flush mount ceiling fixture made of black iron pipes formed into a starburst with Edison lights at the end of each rod. In the left hand corner by the windows was a dark brown wooden side table with braided wicker sides. Sitting atop it was a Dearly Beloved wine bottle stuffed with dead roses and peacock feathers, a dogeared 60th anniversary copy of Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451 and a two other works by the author--a tattered paperback of The Illustrated Man and a relatively intact copy of I Sing The Body Electric.

The apartment felt so warm and lived in. It didn't feel like a college dorm or sterile. This was a proper home that Jean had created for himself and every part of it held onto a memory like massive picture collage that hung above the couch. Comprised of over three hundred individual pictures, the fixture told the story of the photographers' life from childhood to adulthood. There were images of Jean as a young boy missing his two front teeth playing in the back yard of his grandparents house in Nantucket. Placed next to them were shots of his fifth grade trip to Washington D.C. Eren and Armin were squeezed next to him; all three bundled up with their coats and scarves while throwing up the peace sign. A ways over from the trio freeze-frame was a group shot of Jean, Eren, Armin, Sasha, Connie, and Mikasa hanging out in his parents' living room playing Super Smash Bro's. Sasha was scarfing down a slice of pepperoni pizza while Eren was flipping out over losing to Mikasa. Near the front of the photo, Jean was shrinking away from the camera, trying to hide his face from the lens.

Marco could spend days looking over the pictures that hung together in suspension within the collage. It was like staring at the individual frames of a movie; watching it unfold in silence yet still feeling the impact of each smile and every somber gaze. However, his body began to betray him. Feeling the lids of his eyes tug down slowly, Marco adjusted in his seat, trying his best not to fall asleep on the couch. He heard Jean chuckle and felt it shake him softly through the shared contact of their touching arms.

"We should turn in before you pass out in your hiking clothes." Jean said as exhaustion strained his voice.

"I don't mind sleeping in what I'm wearing. It's not much different than what I usually wear to bed."

"Nuh uh," the photographer shook his head then pushed up from the welcoming warmth and comfort of the couch. "Not after you've been running around and sweating in those. Come on, I've got something that you can wear."

Jean extended a hand to the brunette and pulled firmly when the other had taken grip of his forearm. Letting Marco's hand drop from his arm to his hand, Jean led him into an alcove to the right of the living room. Opening the door opposite of the linen closet, the pair entered the master bedroom. Pushed up against the back wall was a queen size bed layered with soft pillows, multiple blankets, and a thick duvet hidden inside a grey and smoky blue plaid sham. Flung against the headboard was the towel Jean had used earlier that day after his shower and some of the leftovers from when he had raided his closet. On the nightstand was an alarm clock, more books that couldn't exactly be considered light reading, a large half empty water bottle, and a globe style reading lamp made of crackled mercury glass.

Changing out of his hiking clothes and into his usual sleeping sweats and henley, Jean exited the en suite bathroom. Catching the brunettes' attention with a quick "hey," he tossed the spare pair of grey sweatpants and large black basic tee to Marco and told him to go swap out in the restroom and wash up. As he did, Jean got to work straightening up the bed. While he fluffed the pillows and smoothed out the blankets Jean repeated "we're only sleeping, we're just sleeping" over and over in his head. Both of them were exhausted from being worked to the bone and it was their first date. There wasn't any way they'd go past first base tonight. 'But what if something does happen?' 

A chill ran down Jeans' spine at the thought. It had been a while since he had last been with someone in that capacity. And while he was very interested in getting to know Marco more intimately, he wasn't prepared for it to happen just yet. There were still some problems on his side of the fence that needed to be sorted out. But...

The bathroom door opened, commanding Jean to turn around. It was like he had been hit square in the chest when he saw Marco padding over to the bed wearing his clothes. The man could make a potato sac look like a $10 million suit. There was just some strange unexplainable aura that exuded from him. It was like seeing a model during fashion week, relaxing in between shows. Instead of the clothes they wore making them look desirable, they made the clothes look better. Marco was one of those people; all six feet and two inches of him radiated cool.

Trying his best not to stare like he had weeks ago at the beach and again in the newsroom, Jean closed the door and turned off the main light--allowing the soft glow of the globe lamp to fill the immediate space. As he opened the window, Marco sat down on the far end of the bed. Rubbing the back of his neck, his shoulders heaved with a yawn and his head rolled from side to side, relieving the tension that had built up. Jean was quiet as he watched; committing the sight to memory. The way the light lit his toned frame in it's warm dim gleam. The way his soft chocolate brown hair captured the rays like they captured the sun. The way his smooth honeyed skin contrasted the dark fabric of his shirt. Jean's hand twitched with the urge to reach for the camera sitting on the large dresser drawers and take a photo. But instead, he let the image burn into his eyes and scorch a place in his mind. This was a moment he would keep to himself and recall fondly in private.

"Marco?" Jean breathed, forcing his voice to work. "You can lay down you know."

"Mmm," the brunette smiled back dreamily as if he were already in the first stages of sleep.

As Jean slid under the blankets, so did Marco. There was a sigh as both of them relaxed into the cloud-like mattress that coaxed them deeper into its soothing embrace. Turning the lamp off, Jean curled onto his side facing Marco's back. The other man was close to the edge of the bed and was rolled over to the right, looking away from his bunk mate. It was odd, but somehow the slacked posture that the brunette had exhibited a moment ago was gone. Now, he looked somewhat tense; like he was trying not to intrude.

Mustering up all the courage he could find, Jean reached out through the darkness and placed a gentle hand on Marco's shoulder.

"Hey," he rasped, fighting back the sleep that was creeping at the edges of his waking mind. "You don't have to sleep that close to the edge."

Glancing over his shoulder, Marco turned onto his back with one elbow propping him up so that he could see Jean. "You sure? I don't want to take up too much space."

"It's fine, I want you to take up space." Jean said before he could stop the words. After a moment, he figured there was no point in holding back since they were technically already in bed together. "Marco, I invited you to stay the night. I'm not going to be the guy that complains about you hogging the bed or some stupid shit like that."

Still finding the energy to smile, Marco collapsed into the bed; his face flush against the clean cotton down pillow that forced his hair to splay in every which direction. "Sorry, I just wasn't sure if you were comfortable with this or with me."

"I'm fine," Jean said with a small smile of his own. Giving in to the urge, he reached out and stroked his fingers through the brown tresses. "We're just sleeping together."

"Yeah," the other breathed.

"Hey Marco," the younger man spoke lowly, almost as a whisper.

"Hmm?"

When their eyes met Jean felt his heart skip and the fluttering in his stomach grow. Pulling his hand back to rest of the patch of the mattress between them, he paused to collect his thoughts. Those perfect liquid brown eyes peered into his in search of the question that went unasked. There was a tension in the air that even the soft pattering of the rain outside could not breach. It continued to grow until the spell was broken by Marco extending his hand across the bed. Jean knew exactly what the gesture meant and he took the opportunity to be closer to this living ray of light.

Scooting over, Jean curled into Marco. Their legs tangled together; feet brushing against one another and toes tracing the lines of arches in the soles. Using the brunettes right arm as a pillow, Jean sat the palm of his left hand over Marco's heart while his other hand played with fabric at the neck of his own shirt. He couldn't look up for the time being. This feeling was so heavy and intense that it threatened his already fast-beating heart which throbbed against his rib cage. Marco had draped his free arm over Jean's waist, fingers trailing just above the base of his spine. It was an innocent touch that was enough to keep the words from leaving his mouth as he struggled to keep breathing.

"You're really warm." Jean murmured.

"Want me to move?"

"No," Jean said almost immediately. Tugging him back, he leaned into the comforting heat of Marco's chest. "I like this."

"Me too," the brunette sighed folding his arms around his shy companion. Nuzzling into Jean's unruly hair, Marco breathed in the warm scent of clean cotton and spring rain that clung to his skin and ashen blonde tresses. "I like this too."

"Marco?"

"Yeah?"

"You....? You aren't seeing anyone else, are you? I'd understand if you were seeing other people since this is our first date but..."

"It's just you." Marco interjected. Pulling away enough so that he could look at Jean, he said "It's only you. That alright?"

"Yeah." Jean choked, kicking himself mentally for letting his voice crack like he was some weak in the knees teenager again.

"Are you seeing anyone else?"

He had to hide his shock when he heard the nervous pitch in Marco's tone. "No. It's just you."

"Good," Marco pivoted his head down and to the side to capture Jeans lips. Kissing him long and deep enough to take his breath away, Marco whispered, "I don't like sharing boyfriends."

"So I'm your boyfriend now?" Jean said in between the small kisses here and there.

"I've had every intention of making you mine, Jean. It just took a little longer than expected."

"A month isn't exactly what I'd consider taking it slow."

"Every relationship has a different pace," Marco stated matter of factly. 

Pressing another kiss to Jeans' soft lips, he smiled when the other parted his lips slightly. Taking the invitation, Marco slipped his tongue over Jeans and slowly explored his mouth; tasting the mint from his toothpaste and his natural sweetness. Tilting his head back, the younger man deepened the kiss. He needed more of that heat, more of the strength holding him flush against that burning body, more of the tortuously tender touch that grazed up his spine... He needed more of Marco's delicious scent to cloud his senses as the fingers of the brunettes' right hand twisted tentatively into his hair. 

Jean felt the air hitch in his lungs and his pulse soar when Marco kissed a trail down from his ear to the crook of his neck. Sucking and nipping the sensitive patch of skin, the older man could feel the other one melting into his arms. He knew that they should stop before things got out of hand. Sleeping with Jean on the first date was one thing, but 'sleeping' with him was against his one month rule. However, every part of his being urged him on. The fire burning in the hollow of his chest encouraged him to mark and claim the beautiful irresistible man that was moaning his name under gasps for air and weighted pants. God, his voice alone was enough to make Marco want to lose himself. But when the flat of his hand on Jean's back felt the increasing rhythm of his heart, the brunette slowed his pace until it was a low simmer.

With one last kiss, Marco savored the taste of Jean on his tongue and lips before parting for some much needed air. "Fuck..." he breathed. "You're too good."

"Then why'd you stop?" Jean chuckled, only then noticing how dangerously quick his heart was beating.

"Well, I don't want to have to take you to the emergency room on our first night together."

'He noticed that too?' Jean thought.

"There's also the issue of getting enough sleep. Don't you work tomorrow?"

"No," Jean said forcing himself to look Marco in the eyes. "Do you?"

Registering the words, a crooked smile pulled at the edge of Marco's mouth. "I have the day off too. I thought you had to go into the Independent tomorrow to press the photo's for that article you were working on."

Shaking his head back and forth, the photographer yawned. "I pressed them today after class let out. I didn't want to have to worry about the deadline ruining our date so I sent them in before you came over." Curling into Marco, Jean added, "That's why I was still getting dressed when you pulled up."

Marco's playful grin turned soft as he rest his head on the pillow with his chin placed atop Jeans crown. Happily, he closed his eyes and let the waves of sleep rush over them. But before they could rob him entirely of his senses, the brunette kissed Jean on the forehead one last time.

"Night Jean. See you in the morning."

Moving just a bit, Jean kissed the hollow of his throat before he settled in and shut his eyes. "Night Marco."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here's another playlist. This is the playlist Jean listens to when he needs to come down from a long day. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
>  
> 
> Time Out Playlist
> 
> -"Down In The Valley" by The Head and The Heart  
> -"Cicadas and Gulls" by Feist  
> -"Bittersweet Melodies" by Feist  
> -"Undsicovered First" by Feist  
> -"Ophelia" by The Lumineers  
> -"Sick In The Head" by The Lumineers  
> -"White Lie" by The Lumineers  
> -"Carried Home" by Iron & Wine  
> -"Such Great Heights" by Iron & Wine  
> -"Flightless Bird, American Mouth" by Iron & Wine  
> -"The Trapeze Swinger" by Iron & Wine  
> -"In A Week" by Hozier  
> -"All I Believe In" by The Magic Numbers  
> -"I Of The Storm" by Of Monsters and Men  
> -"Dream A Little Dream Of Me" by The Mama's and The Papa's  
> -"The Rain" by Oh Wonder  
> -"Without You" by Oh Wonder  
> -"Livewire" by Oh Wonder  
> -"Heart Hope" by Oh Wonder  
> -"All We Do" by Oh Wonder  
> -"Body Gold (Louis the Child Remix)" by Oh Wonder  
> -"Blame" by Tropics  
> -"Torrents of Spring" by Tropics  
> -"Rolling Stone" by The Weeknd  
> -"Love Interruption" by Jack White  
> -"The Alp Song" by The Black Eyed Peas  
> -"Service Bell" by Feist & Grizzly Bear  
> -"Slow Life" by Grizzly Bear  
> -"Whirlpool" by Sea Wolf  
> -"You're A Wolf" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Leaves In The River" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Rose Captain" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Middle Distance Runner" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Neutral Ground" by Sea Wolf


	6. In My Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco comes to a realization, the Nexus team and KCSB crew compete at the JACCU conference, Ymir discovers Levi's secret, and our boys cut loose.
> 
>  
> 
> \----------NOTICE!: This is another long chapter. Most of them will be in the future but this one in particular and the following one are coming with their own notice because they have a lot of technical terms and field specific references. If you are curious about some of the words or phrases and what they mean, don't hesitate to ask. I love answering questions and spreading the word on Journalism... There is also a lot of music being referenced in this chapter but hey, half of the characters are MC's so go figure.
> 
> \----------WARNING!: There will be some peril and character endangerment in the following chapter so please be aware of that now.

"Bull shit, all you did was sleep," Eren grinned wryly as he turned the music down using the button on the steering wheel. "Come on Jean, how long have we been friends? I'll find out eventually."

"Nothing fucking happened," Jean groaned as he slumped further into the pilot seat.

He should've taken Marco up on his offer to carpool with him to San Francisco but he was afraid that he may come off as clingy. They may be going out and the brunette didn't give any indication that Jean's need to be near him was at all annoying, but still, he wanted to play it safe. The last relationship he was in ended for that exact reason so he wasn't going to screw it up this time. So Jean endured this game of twenty questions from Eren with Sasha and Connie chiming in.

"So you mean to tell me that you went on a night hike with Marco, took him home on the first date, and just passed out?" Eren said skeptically, glancing away from the road to Jean. His black box frame glasses only intensified his piercing green eyes that were now clear from his shaggy hair that was tucked into a merle grey beanie. "I don't care what rules you have about not screwing on the first date. If I were you I would have banged him."

"Thank's Boy Meets World. Now tell me how you're love life is going?"

"Below the belt dude."

Despite being friends since grade school, Jean didn't want to divulge everything to Eren just yet. He didn't want to talk about waking up on that perfect morning to Marco's stupidly beautiful sleeping face or how it made his heart ache. He didn't want to talk about how the two of them spent the entire afternoon being lazy on the couch playing Halo and Left For Dead. The brunette was terrible with shooter games it seemed because his friendly fire count was off the charts and he woke the witch zombie up every single time. 'Chick Magnet' was now a joke the two of them shared much to the older mans' chagrin. Jean didn't want to talk about how, instead of ordering take out like he had suggested, Marco made them lunch--club sandwiches and a Greek salad with a beer. 

He did not want to tell him how, after their late lunch, he and Marco spent the remainder of the day reading and dicking around with his camera because the brunette wanted to know what all the fuss was about. Or that near the end, when it came time for Marco to get ready to leave, that they had turned on to second base. They couldn't do more than that for multiple reasons but the sensation was strong enough that Jean woke up that morning still feeling the others' hands on his thighs and his lips on his neck.

Jean didn't want to tell Eren because he would either be the cold harsh voice of reason that would say they were moving too fast or act as the devil on his shoulder and tell him to jump Marco's bones. So he kept it to himself. This pace suited them just fine and, for once, he didn't feel like he was lacking or the less desirable partner. Marco often reminded his humble boyfriend of how attractive and talented he was despite his doubts. He was considerate like that and it calmed Jean enough that he did not feel at all insecure.

A yard ahead of Eren's orange Kia Soul was Ymir's recognizable dark blue Ford Flex with the iconic white top and Hawaiian islands decal on the rear windshield. Grooving to the jams Marco was playing, she kept her eyes on the winding road without missing a beat on the conversation at hand. The atmosphere was relaxed and easy; just like the second time she had gone to JACCU. Her brother was the co-pilot that, on occasion, fed her whatever was on hand--usually french fries or baby carrots. 

Levi was in the back with Max "Duchess" Gottesman stirring up a debate on mainstream media and the misrepresentation of civil unrest in the US. The only difference now was that short ball of fury was a faculty member and not just the fearless leader of the college newspaper. Passed out in the far back were her two late night hosts, Rosie Love and Nathan "Scooby" Hanson. She was surprised that they had managed to drag themselves out of bed in time to leave that morning. Ymir had told Rosie that they could cut their show early but the two of them stuck it out saying they'd just catch up on their sleep on the drive up.

"Hey, Ymir," Levi rang from the backseat. "How far are we from San Fran?"

Glancing to her navigation system she answered. "About two hours. There's an accident coming up in a couple miles by Salinas that's backing up traffic."

"When is there not an accident by Salinas?" Levi huffed. Unbuckling, he leaned forward between the two front seats. Tapping the navigation screen he scrolled through the list of suggested routes. "Why are there so many accidents today? Did everyone decide to drive like a jackass on the same day?"

"Dude, sit down." Marco snapped, forgetting their status as professor and student when he saw Levi without his seatbelt. "What if something happens and there's a collision? You really want to be a bleeding Picasso painting on the ground?"

"Shut up Marco. You're not even wearing yours correctly so don't start."

"That's different. At least I have one on."

"Oh my God, stop it you two," Ymir chided taking her hand a pressing it against Levi's shoulder. "Sit the fuck down and Marco, play the next song. No arguing, got it? We're stuck together for the next four days. I refuse to let you boys muck up my drive."

Unlike her brother, Ymir wasn't too polite to put someone in their place; least of all Levi. She and him had been in the same program since freshman year. The fact that he was a year older and had graduated a year before her and became a professor instead of running for his PhD didn't mean jack to her. She would mess around with him the same way they had when he was still a student. That's just the kind of woman she was; fierce and beyond reproach.

Falling back into his seat and pulling the seatbelt across his chest, Levi shot Gottesman a glare before his snide smile could spread any further. "How soon until the next rest stop? We should figure out when to stop for lunch."

Ymir snorted a laugh at how easily the man got cabin fever. "The next one is in about five or so miles." Glancing to her right to Marco, she added, "Marco, send out a blast to the whole crew and see if anybody has a food allergy, can't eat seafood, or has a suggestion for where we could grab a bite."

Nodding along to the smooth vocals of Miike Snow's "Genghis Khan," Marco got to work compiling the text message and adding everyone's name. Tapping send, the file had a two minute lag because there were so many people that it had to reach and not all of them were on the same network or had the same phone. When it had finally been delivered to all twenty-two members of their caravan it was only a matter of moments before the texts started rolling in.

Looking away from the view outside the window, Jean glanced down at his cell that had vibrated in the drink holder. As he reached for it, Eren's went off next to it followed by Sasha and Connie's in the back seat. Grabbing his device fearing that some freak accident was head, he sighed a breath of relief when he saw it was just a mass text asking about lunch. Already knowledgeable of his travel companion's food preferences, Jean replied saying that their group didn't mind where they ate so long as the food wasn't made with peanuts because he, himself, was allergic. Seconds later, a text pinged on screen. This time, it wasn't a mass message.

MARCO: You're allergic to peanuts??

Hiding a smile, he responded when Eren wasn't looking.

JEAN: Yeah. I also can't drink tequila because I'm allergic to Agave.

MARCO: Something tells me that wasn't a fun night when you found out.

JEAN: Best 21st birthday ever.

MARCO: Ouch.

JEAN: Tell me about it. They had to shove a tube down my throat in the ambulance so that I wouldn't choke.

Putting the phone down for a moment, Jean changed the song and updated the on-screen map on the cars' navigation system. Bobbing his head to "Sweater Weather" by The Neighbourhood, Jean picked up his iPhone that had gone off twice.

MARCO: Well at least you're alive and smarter for it.

MARCO: So Ymir is thinking everyone should just park at the Fisherman's Wharf in Monterey and take the next hour to find a place to sit down and eat.

JEAN: What are you scheming at Marco?

MARCO: Damn, you caught me. I was going to ask if you wanted to play hooky for a little bit. We won't have a lot of time to ourselves for the next couple of days so I was curious.

Feeling his heart stutter, Jean swallowed hard at the anticipation and forced the blush from his face before anyone in the car could see.

JEAN: Do you have a plan that won't make us look suspicious?

Biting on his lip, Marco chuckled softly feeling that familiar warmth rise in his chest. Ignoring the sideways glance from Ymir and Levi's quirked brow, Marco tapped out his reply.

MARCO: Well chances are that our groups will end up going to different restaurants so we could sneak out and meet up somewhere.

JEAN: But I don't know my way around the area.

MARCO: Google Maps love. It's the way of the future.

JEAN: Don't be a dick.

MARCO: Sorry. I speak sarcasm fluently and it slips out from time to time. So, what do you think?

JEAN: Sure. Should I bring anything?

MARCO: You're camera. I know you'll want to take pictures of the wharf.

JEAN: Sounds like a plan. I'll see you in a bit then.

MARCO: See you in a bit.

Breathing deep, Jean closed his eyes and counted to five in his head as he pressed back into the headrest. God, he had it bad. Marco was in the car just a yard ahead yet it felt like he was miles away. What spell had he cast over him to make the photographer that much of a mess over a simple text exchange? Little did Jean know that Marco was feeling just as restless as he was.

The caravan of cars, SUV's, and trucks pulled off the highway at Salinas before they were caught in the massive wave of traffic that would present itself shortly. Taking the 68 to Monterey, Eren followed close behind Ymir while trying to overtake them every so often. It didn't help that he had his "speeding music", as Jean called it, playing. Mouthing the words to "Sexx Laws" by Beck, Eren would look to his co-pilot every so often and smile while encouraging him to sing along with him. As his green-eyed friend shook his shoulder every so often in between gear changes, a grin spread from one side of Jean's face to the other.

When the song ended, Connie took control of the playlist and scrolled through the selection of songs to see what was good. However, it was Sasha who picked the next track saying that everyone had to sing to it. As soon as "My Band" by D12 began to play, Jean groaned while pressing his forehead and hands against the window. Meanwhile Eren cranked up the volume and bounced along to the beat. He had memorized the lyrics to the song in high school and loved singing to it as loud as he could; often acting out Eminem's portions while Sasha and Connie sang the D12 parts.

Pulling up to the stoplight at Fremont Boulevard, Eren grabbed Jean's shoulder and sang "Girl why can't you see you're the only one for me, and it just tears my ass apart to know that you don't know my name." Laughing from how ridiculous his friend was behaving, his cackling only intensified when Ymir and Marco whistled from the car next to them. The window had been down the whole time and everyone within an earshot could hear the photo editor singing along to the wildly offensive music. Both of the Bott's were laughing uncontrollably--Marco was hunched over and rolling into his sister who was saying Eren better stick to his day job.

"I doubt you have anything better in that dated playlist of yours," Eren shouted back, challenging the two siblings.

"Is that a fact Jaeger?" Marco grinned.

"You bet your ass it is Marci-Marc."

Clicking his tongue with an audible "Tch," Marco glanced down at his phone and tapped on the setlist he usually reserved for parties he DJ'ed at. Smirking wickedly, he jacked up the volume before looking to Ymir with an glint in his eye that seemed to tell her exactly what he was about to do. She shook her head and told him to have mercy on the poor boy which he ignored. Before anyone in the orange Kia had a chance to react, Marco hit play and the heavy car rattling bass of Timmy Trumpet and Savage edit of "Freaks" shook the ground. Everyone apart from the Bott's had forgotten that Ymir had outfitted her car with a new sound system and a top-of-the-line sub-woofer. It only made sense that her car would be tricked out since she was an audiophile. But the magnitude of sound coming from the Flex made Eren's teeth vibrate.

"You were saying Baby Spice?" Marco grinned mischievously as the light turned green and they sped off ahead of the stunned photographer.

"For fuck's sake Marco, turn it down!" Levi shouted over the music. "You're going to cause a wreck."

"Really? Because Ymir and I drive with the music up all the time."

Marco heard the sound of Levi's seatbelt coming undone over the heavy bass and incessant pounding of the vocals hitting the windows. Reacting before he could move any further, the brunette turned down the music and ordered his friend to get back in his seat and buckle up. Despite his reckless music habits, Marco took the safety of others while traveling very seriously. He had been in enough accidents to know what happens if you aren't strapped in properly. And though he may wear his with extra slack, he wasn't about to risk the life of the guy that had saved him more than his fair share of times.

Eyeing Levi with more than a bit of ferocity, Marco waited for the shorter man to sit back down and fix his seatbelt. Once he had, the brunette changed the song to something that had less of a jarring quake to it. Settling for a crowd favorite, he put on "The Boogie That Be" by The Black Eyed Peas. It didn't take long before everyone in the car--well, those who were awake--began bobbing along to the beat. Ymir sang to the parts sung by Fergie while Levi and Gottesman grooved with the rhythm. It was a rare occasion when the two weren't arguing over something; they fought like cats and dogs even back when Levi was EIC and Gottesman was his news editor. But when there was good music playing, they quieted down to appreciate it. Now that balance had been restored, Marco opened the text that popped up a minute or two ago when they were busy smoking the Kia.

JEAN: What the hell did Ymir do to her car?! There's no way that thing came with that kind of sound system.

MARCO: She replaced it a year ago. New speakers and a subwoofer in the back.

JEAN: Jesus Christ.

MARCO: We like music.

JEAN: Yeah, so do I but I'm not about to make my ears bleed over it. Wait, you said we. Don't tell me you did the same thing to your car.

MARCO: Would that be a deal breaker if I had?

JEAN: No.

MARCO: Then yes, I did. I won't have it that loud when you're riding with me though if it makes you uncomfortable.

JEAN: What makes me uncomfortable is the idea of it distracting you and causing a crash.

MARCO: You doubt my skills love.

JEAN: Marco.

MARCO: Yes? Look, you don't have to worry. The only time I have it THAT loud is when I use the car speakers when I go camping and forget my portable stereo.

JEAN: Somehow I'm not convinced.

MARCO: Well there's nothing I can do about that right now. Just trust me, 'kay. I'm far more cautious than my evil twin.

Smirking a little at the thought, Jean relented. He was mortified when he saw the Bott's speed off with the music up that loud. It reminded him of the accident he and Eren were in when they were kids but, unlike his friend, he hadn't quite gotten back to normal. He still drove with the windows down and the music at maximum of 40. Any higher, and he couldn't concentrate on the noise around him. But if Marco said he didn't drive like his sister and insisted upon it, Jean would trust him.

JEAN: Fine, but don't do that again. It scared me for a moment.

MARCO: Sorry, I won't do it again.

JEAN: Thank you.

MARCO: Always. <3

\-----------------------------

Turning into the lot at the Fisherman's Wharf, Levi and Shadis stood side by side and waited for the entire group to collect. When all twenty-six of them were present and accounted for, the advisers announced that they had an hour and a half to eat lunch and shake-off the cabin fever from the long drive. Shadis told the drivers that now would be the time to swap with their co-pilots if they didn't want to drive the last leg of the trip. However, anyone that was taking over the wheel would have to do a few short laps around the parking lot with Levi in the car to ensure that they knew what they were doing. 

The six that were tapping in to drive were Marco, Jean, Sam, Mark, Bertolt, and Krista. As they waited to be assessed, Ymir walked over to stand next to her petite girlfriend. When the blonde didn't look her way, the program director nudged her gently in the side. Still no reaction. Now more than a little peeved, she stepped in front of Krista which, in Marco's humble opinion, was a dumb idea. He knew exactly why the blonde was upset. It was for the same reason Jean had chastised him. But Ymir would have to learn the hard way, again, that confronting Krista when she was pissed was a piss-poor idea.

"What's your deal?" Ymir asked with a tone of offense.

Spinning on her heels, Krista jabbed her girlfriend in the chest with a pointed finger. "How many fucking times do I have to say I hate it when you speed before you get it? I mean seriously, I've said it about a thousand times and yet you still do it! Am I talking to a wall or something?"

"Sorry, I forgot."

"You forgot. Right, and that somehow makes it okay? What if something happened to you? What about everyone else in the car, hmm?"

"Okay, but you don't have to snap at me. Honestly Krista, you're overreacting."

Marco's eyes shot open wider than an owl straining to see in the dark. Jean, too, bit his lower lip knowing that Ymir had just stepped on a landmine. With a glare that could melt flesh, Krista turned away from her girlfriend making it known that she was now in the dog house. It didn't matter if it was true or complete bull. The moment Ymir had said she was overreacting, the conversation was shut down. And from the way the two similar conversations played out, Jean could see that Marco actually was the more reasonable sibling. 'Poor Krista,' he thought watching as Ymir tried to reopen the conversation but was denied every time. 'Must be hard getting someone that stubborn to listen to reason.'

After all six replacement drivers had passed Levi's assessment, the group broke for lunch and some sightseeing. As the broadcasting team went inland to grab some sushi and Korean barbecue, the "Nexus Editing Squad plus Guest" as Connie called them headed to the wharf. They walked to the British pub that was just a stone's throw away from the boardwalks' end. It looked cozy and fairly lively and on any other trip Jean would have gone inside. But he instead excused himself with a fake call from his mother. Neither Sasha nor Connie questioned him but Eren knew his friend was up to something. However, he wasn't about to be a cock block so he shrugged sympathetically and let Jean go. It was the least he could do since Jean would do the same for him if the roles were reversed.

"Go get 'em Jeany Boy." Eren spoke under his breath with a playful smirk.

\----------------------------------------

Marco breathed in heavily then sighed as leaned further into the wooden guardrail that boxed around the large centuries old wharf. He hadn't been waiting long for Jean but his nerves were already on the fritz. They had only been dating for a week--two if they counted the days prior when Jean had confessed and he had accepted his feelings. And while Marco was certainly no stranger to the concept, the way he felt whenever that amber eyed photographer was around was akin to his days as an awkward teenager trying to impress his first boyfriend. It was powerful and overwhelming; sometimes he had to catch his eyes before they bored a hole through the object of his affections. Marco wanted so desperately to control himself--to maintain his composure and not frighten the photographer. But he had already been swept away once the day after he had spent the night at Jeans'.

In that moment as he watched the water churn as the waves rushed to fill the space beneath the pier, Marco could feel Jeans' heated breath against his ear. He could hear his voice as clear as day instructing him to loosen the tie on his sweats and taste his mouth on his as they shared one of the many kisses that pinned them to the wall of his bedroom--grinding harder against one another in hopes of quelling the fire burning inside them both. Their greedy hands reaching for whatever skin they could find and their forced breathing and creeping moans melded, rising higher until they saw white and the only sounds were the strangled sighs escaping their throats. Marco had totally lost hold of his senses and gave into what could only be called a lapse of sanity. He wanted to take it slow and accommodate Jean's pace but how could he? What was it about that man that could so easily make him into a brainless mess?

"Shit..." Marco murmured, dipping his head while he cursed himself for adding to his sexual frustration. 'This is NOT the time to be thinking about that,' he growled silently.

A sudden gentle breeze brought with it the scent of the crisp ocean air, the mixed aroma's of lunchtime on the wharf, and something else. It was distinct and familiar, causing Marco's exhausted heart to skip a beat. Forcing his body to cooperate, he turned making eye contact with those perfect pools of liquid amber that had been dogging him all day. With the early afternoon sun arching across the sky behind him, Jean looked almost otherworldly. 

The buildings faded into the background as bright pops of blue, pink, yellow, and red while the photographer stood there--in complete focus wearing that killer smile. If only he could work a camera like Jean because there was nothing he wanted more than to freeze that moment and put it on his bedside table at home. In that second he recalled something his father told him when he was a kid; something about how the world seems to stop spinning and time slows when you meet your soulmate. He said it was what happened when he met their mother. Was that what was happening to him then? But if that was the case, then why now instead of when he and Jean had seen each other on the beach?

It didn't make sense but, then again, nothing about their relationship or how quickly it developed did. And he could not lie when it did, in fact, feel like both time and space had frozen to preserve that one perfect moment. But wasn't this happening all too soon? Clearing his throat of the bundling nerves that had become lodged within it, Marco shifted so that he was completely standing though with the small of his back pressed to the railing. Just as suddenly as the universe had stilled, it was like God had hit 'Play' and released him from the reverie. Returning Jean's smile with one of his own, the brunette felt something new nudging in his heart. It was faint but very present as it settled in.

"Hey," Marco spoke first.

"Hey," Jean smiled, turning his head away as he nervously rubbed at the nape of his neck. "You know you don't have to stare at me so much. It's a little embarrassing."

"Oh?" the brunette posed as he wrangled in his straying train of thought before it could do any damage. Leaning back against the rail, he smirked, "It's kinda funny. I feel like Jack waiting for Rose to join him at the bow of the ship."

"A Titanic reference? Seriously?"

Chuckling, he pushed away from where he was standing and finally grabbed hold of the frame his hands had been itching to touch. Kissing Jean on the cheek, he took hold of his hand and jerked his head back toward the way they had came.

"Want to see if the beaches look any different than the ones back home?"

"Sure," Jean grinned, finding himself amused at the silliness of the thought. "You haven't eaten yet, right?"

"No, I didn't have time because Ymir dragged our group ten minutes inland just so that she could get her sushi fix."

"Then did you want to grab something together? I didn't have anything either."

"Oh, okay. Sorry I thought you had for some reason."

"Marco, are you okay?" Jean chuckled. "You seem off."

"Nah, I'm fine. I haven't had anything to eat since last night so maybe that has something to do with it."

"Alright," the photographer said quickening his pace so that he was now in front and the brunette was being strung along. "I saw this hole in the wall place on the way over that we could hit up. It looked fine to me but if you have any food allergies, speak now or hold your peace."

Shaking his head, Marco finally caught up with the man holding onto his hand. "No, I don't have any. You got to tell me about your twenty-first birthday though. Did they really take you away in an ambulance?"

"Jesus, can you try not to sound so excited?" Jean smirked with false offence.

Making the most of the little time they had left together before Levi called everyone back to the cars, Jean and Marco caught a quick bit to eat at the food shack the younger man had seen on his way to meet the brunette. Both ordering the fish and chips to go, they strolled along the pier exchanging updates on how the ride up to San Francisco was driving them crazy. Jean choked on his food when he heard about Ymir pulling rank on Levi and almost shoving him into his seat. All things considered, that would be something she would do. If she could keep someone as free-spirited as her brother at bay then it only made sense that she could do the same with Levi who seemed like he could be a bit of a diva.

At the sands edge, they discarded their shoes and walked the beach barefoot. Jean had even gone as far as to roll up the legs of his jeans so that he could take photo's closer to the water without worrying about getting his clothes wet. From a short distance away, Marco watched as his companion came to life--taking pictures of anything that caught his eye. A boy and his sister posed for a shot while they built their sand castle. Smiling from ear to ear, the children stood triumphantly to either side of the structure they had so proudly erected that was fitted with white seashell windows and a kelp drawbridge. They waved goodbye as the friendly photographer moved along. 

Down the way was a dog at play digging curiously at a cluster of rocks. After taking an action shot of the mutt kicking up sand, Jean leaned in to see what the spotted dog was fussing over. Wedged between two of the stones was a tense looking shoreline crab with its pincers at the ready. When the owner came to retrieve her pet, she apologized for it causing him any trouble. Shaking his head, Jean explained how it had been trying to get at the crustacean that was hanging out in the rocks. Showing her the photo, the woman inched closer; smiling first at the display screen than at Jean. 

Catching the look in her eye, Marco walked over to where they were standing. Looking up at him, the young woman swooned but corrected herself when she saw the warning that was lurking inside that deep brown gaze. Collecting her dog, she excused herself and jogged off into the distance. It seemed that Jean still had no idea how hot of a piece he was. Glancing down at his watch, Marco frowned noting how it was almost time to leave.

"Hey," the brunette said softly as he placed a hand on the small of Jean's back. "We've only got about fifteen or so minutes before we have to head out."

"Really?" Jean spoke as his face bunched up in disbelief. Pulling out his phone, a frown found its way to his lips. "Well that blows."

"Tell me about," Marco laughed though he was genuinely disappointed with how quickly the time had passed."You know if that girl and her dog didn't cause such a ruckus we would've had more time."

"Nah, she wasn't all that bad. I think she was embarrassed more than anything else to be honest."

His naivety would've been adorable if it was for that grating feeling it left in Marco's chest. "Really now?" he said flatly. 

Stepping onto the asphalt, they continued on to the nearby parking lot where the group was supposed to meet up. Without even noticing it, he had remained silent as they walked over to Ymir's car. Taking the keys from his pocket, Marco unlocked the blue Flex and opened the drivers' side door. Sitting down, he busied himself with lacing up his black canvas Vans low tops. After minute he felt a pair of eyes on him. Looking up, he saw Jean standing there wearing a less than impressed expression.

"What?" Marco asked innocently as he tied the laces of his right shoe.

"Really Marco, you're going to play that game?"

"What game?"

"You're giving me the silent treatment. Look, did I do something?"

"No, you didn't do anything. I'm just thinking."

"Don't do that thing where you get all in your head," Jean said taking a step forward before something clicked into place. Slowly, a grin crept from one corner of his lips to the other. "Oh my God, no fucking way. You're jealous!"

"No I'm not," the brunette said indignantly as he tried to hide his embarrassment.

"Yes you are. It's because of that girl that came over to grab her dog, isn't it?"

"I don't know what you're going on about."

"Oh yes you do," Jean laughed trying to get a look at Marco's face as he closed the door. "Come on, just say it. You were jealous."

Rolling his eyes, he turned suddenly taking Jean by surprise. Using his height and strength to his advantage, Marco pinned the younger man against the car with both his hand planted firmly to either side of him. Staring down at him, the brunette watched as Jeans' cocky smirk faded when he realized that he couldn't push past his arms. The blush began to seep from the photographers cheeks--spreading across his face, to his ears, and down his neck. He wouldn't look up probably because he didn't think himself strong enough to handle the intensity of Marco's smoldering gaze. But something in Jean made him seek out those burning brown eyes. When he found them a shiver raced along his spine sending sharp jolts of electricity to his lungs, heart, and gut.

"You're right, I was jealous. I told you I don't like sharing."

Jean felt his knees buckle at the low velvet smooth tone Marco's voice took on in that moment. "You don't have to take it so seriously. I don't like women, remember? Anyway, I should be more worried about someone trying to put the moves on you."

Growling because Jean still didn't get it, Marco pushed into him; taking undisputed control of the others' mouth. Taken aback by the suddenness of the kiss, the younger man gasped as his legs gave out only to be caught by his partners strong arms. The grip tightened possessively around Jeans waist as he was pressed harder against the car. Tangling the fingers of one hand in Marco's deliciously soft hair, the other clawed into the back of his hoodie as if he were hanging on for dear life. Their lips parted then met again--open and hungry to taste each other. Jean stifled a groan as Marco searched every curve of his mouth, gliding his tongue along the surface of his--teasing the edge of his teeth with it--before pulling away slightly to bite at his lower lip. The tug elicited a whimper from him that both the photographer and his partner seemed to be surprised to hear. However, it only made Marco's pride swell.

Kissing down to Jean's neck, he bit and sucked the soft sweet smelling skin, worrying a deep pink mark into the flesh. Marco moved to the hollow of his throat, claiming the small beauty mark that sat at its center. He felt Jeans lungs stutter and the fingers in his hair tighten as the kisses turned into bites that worked to devour the beautiful blemish on his otherwise flawless clavicle. Marco could feel his judgement cloud with every moan and gasp. The desire to take Jean right then and there in the backseat of the car was so strong it was almost frightening. Yet when his lips caught the increasing speed of Jeans' pulse at the base of his neck, the urge to claim was overridden by his need to protect.

Now tightening his hold on the photographers' waist for his own support, Marco buried himself in the crook of Jean's neck with both eyes squeezed shut. They hung in the suspended silence, struggling to catch their breath and collect their thoughts. Both of them were dangerously on edge and without enough time to do anything about it.

"What the hell was that?" Jean breathed, swallowing the tremble that tried to work its way into his words.

Shaking his head that was still resting firmly on the others' shoulder, Marco spoke with a rasp to his normally smooth voice. "I don't know. I've never been this powerless before. Guess you bring out the possessive freak in me."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Both," Marco groaned pulling him closer. Nuzzling into his neck, Marco shuddered as he exhaled. "Fuck," he breathed almost as a whisper.

Unable to push him away, not due to any lack of strength, Jean held the brunette close. The fingers that were once knotted firmly in his deep chocolate brown hair were now tenderly combing through the silken waves, soothing the edge in his breathing. Resting his cheek against the side of Marco's, he could feel him blushing as the heat rose under his skin. They really were like two horny lovesick teenagers that hadn't figured out how to properly voice their feelings just yet. Kissing the shell of his ear, Jean let his hands drop so that one was thumbing at the nape of his neck and the other was settled between his shoulder blades. 

"How's your heart?" Marco asked, finally pulling away from the safety of the younger mans' shoulder.

Smiling, Jean laughed lightly. "It's fine. You know eventually, you're going to have to work past your concern if we're...if we're going to do more than this."

"I know," he said resting his forehead against Jeans. "But we'll cross that bridge when it comes." Pausing for a long second he added, "Sorry for being an asshole and getting worked up over nothing."

"It's alright. Just tell me the next time you feel like that."

"But that's the thing, I trust you and I know you won't throw yourself at just anyone." Marco groaned from the frustration he was feeling. "I don't know. I just feel restless. Like I said, you're the only person that's made me feel this way."

"You make me restless too," Jean confessed. Looping his arms around Marco's neck, he caressed the soft tanned skin at the base between his broad shoulders before continuing. "You aren't the kind of guy to cheat but that doesn't mean that people won't try to get your attention. So, you're not alone in this."

"Well anyone trying to catch my eye will be sorely disappointed. It's like I have tunnel vision only worse because it makes me blind and stupid," Marco laughed kissing Jean briefly on the lips.

As their mouths met there came a loud, almost annoyed groan to their right. Stopping immediately, Marco whipped his head sharply to the side, scowling when he saw his sister standing there with Levi walking up behind her. Wearing a look of nausea, she jerked the drivers' side door open to unlock the trunk. From the multiple bags in her hand, it was evident that she had either gone shopping for supplies or leisure; maybe both. Slamming the door shut Ymir quirked a brow. It was a silent command for the two to peel themselves off of one another and get ready to leave.

"I swear Marco, you better not have ruined the interior of my car," she said flatly. "If I find one stain on the upholstery, I'll beat you to death with a boom mic."

"Oh my God, we didn't do anything," he groaned angrily through gritted teeth.

"Sure you didn't," Levi chuckled patting the frustrated brunette on the back.

"Not you too."

Yanking the passenger door open, Levi stared at Marco and Jean wearing his usual indifferent scowl. "Look, I don't give a shit what you two do. Just don't fuck each other senseless because both of you have competitions you're entered in early tomorrow morning. Got it?"

Before either of them could say a word, the professor closed the door leaving the two men speechless. Shoving her brother into action, Ymir shooed Jean away telling him that Eren and the others would be back soon and, if he didn't want to be caught, he'd high tail it out of there. Surprised to be taking her advice, the photographer vacated the immediate area. 

Reaching into his pocket, Jean removed the bulky smart car key that had various keychains and fobs hanging off of it along with the manky old rabbits foot that Grisha had attached to the key when he gave his son the car for his nineteenth birthday. As he reached the orange Kia and unlocked the drivers' side, he saw Eren and the gang strolling over carrying bags loaded with souvenirs, snacks, and other miscellaneous odds and ends that were likely impulse buys. When his keen eyed friend was less than a few feet away, a Cheshire grin crept across his lips and lit a spark of playfulness behind those bright emerald pools. 

'God damn it,' Jean thought as he jerked the door open.

Pressing his lips into a flat line with a stern look in his eyes, Jean stopped Eren before he could say a word. They both knew what had happened but they didn't have to discuss it right then and there; not after the humiliation he had suffered at the hands of Levi and Ymir. That alone was enough. He did not need Eren to add to it. Waiting for everyone to pile in, Jean felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Removing it just enough to see the screen, he smiled weakly at the text lighting up the device.

MARCO: Don't worry about Ymir. She may tease you but she won't say anything. I'd be more concerned about that smirk Jaeger's got going on.

JEAN: It's alright. If he tries to say anything, I've got enough dirt on him to guarantee his silence.

MARCO: That's my man. See you in San Fran. Drive safely.

"Come on, Jean, before my clothes go out of style!" Connie shouted from the car.

"Shut it Baldy, they already are." Jean shot back. Turning back to his phone, he sent out one more message before switching it to airplane mode.

JEAN: Stay safe and don't you dare blast that music or go over 70 mph. 'Kay? See you later.

MARCO: Got it. <3

\-----------------------------------------------------

The remainder of the trip up to the city was fairly uneventful. Most of Jean's leg of the drive was a mixture of clear roads, unexplained stints of bumper to bumper traffic, arguments over which installment of Kingdom Hearts was best, and, of course, karaoke. In keeping with his ADHD, Eren had a hard time sticking with a song long enough for it to play through. However, there were a favorites that he let go for the full length like the Scissor Sisters "I Can't Decide," the mildly psychopathic "Love Me Dead," and, of course, the crowd pleaser "Get Back" by Ludacris.

While Connie and Sasha did their best to keep up with the rapid fire lyrics, Eren and Jean rapped as if they had written. This had been their favorite song during junior high and was something of an anthem for the two. Their teen years had been riddled with nothing but drama, gossip, and harassment from the guys that had an issue with their sexual orientation. So to combat the onslaught of tormentors, they had adopted a rather scrappy disposition that got them into their fair share of fist fights ending only when they the other guy was spitting blood. Some called it teenage rebellion. For them it was survival and a way to blow off some steam. 

Now that they were college students half a world away from their shitty hometown, the two friends were relaxed and without a care. Nobody would peg them for locker room brawlers; especially Eren.

As the caravan of students came up on San Francisco, Ymir's blue Flex went flying by. Eyes widening, Jean jumped at the vehicle's sudden appearance. 'God damn it Marco,' he growled to himself. Pressing down gently on the gas, he closed the distance between them, over took the lane next to him, and then slowed down forcing the car behind them to decrease their speed. If the idiot wasn't going to listen to him, he'd make him. Whistling short and low, Eren didn't need to say a word. Jean knew that his aggravation was palpable and clearly showing but he didn't care. What he did care about were the lives of the people on the road.

Now leading the group, Jean looked to Eren to guide them through the circus of one-way roads, bicyclist hazards, and congested surface streets that were so packed, they made New York look like a barren wasteland. He hadn't felt the urge to yell at a pedestrian before but the brain dead wankers that would walk in the gutter of the road or cross when there wasn't a crosswalk had him shouting obscenities in no time. If California had an abundance of one thing apart from sunshine, it was the number of people that deserved an award for proving Darwin wrong. Apparently it was not survival of the fittest because if that was how the world operated, the majority of the state's population would be six feet under and pushing daisies.

"I swear, I'm about to go Genghis Khan on these assholes," Jean growled 

"I'd like to see that," Eren laughed. "Don't worry, we're almost there."

Crossing the Golden Gate Bridge with little pomp and circumstance, the real moment of celebration was when UC Berkeley came into view. Following the mass text from Levi, every driver and passenger put on their press badge and removed their valid student ID their wallets so that they could get through the security checkpoint at the main entrance quickly. The entire length of the trip and the weeks leading up to it, people had been talking about how big of a deal this conference was. It wasn't until that moment, when Jean brought the car to a halt and stared in disbelief at the eighty or so cars ahead of them that he believed all the hype.

There were plates from every corner of California lined up to gain entry to the hallowed northern university grounds. From San Diego to Humbolt, there were teams from almost every UC and CSU present to represent their school at the four day conference. There were even a few private universities lined up such as USC, Mount Saint Mary's, Loyola, and Standford. 'How the hell are we supposed to beat out everyone for top place when there's so many of them?!' Jean thought while fighting back his anxiety. He could already tell that his nerves were going to be frayed by the end of the week. It wasn't that he didn't like a bit of competition. However, there was a difference between duking it out for first place among friends and entering an arena with a couple hundred other journalists and photographers and being told to make it into the top five.

Like Disneyland during peak tourist season, there were people directing the seemingly endless stream of cars. The men and women in the neon Mountain Dew green vests separated the cars based on their school of origin and which student housing complex or campus associated hotel they were staying at. Now at the front of the line, Jean flashed his press badge and student ID for the third time that afternoon and awaited instruction. The volunteered looked down at his clipboard and flipped through the papers for a brief moment.

"Kirstein with the Daily Nexus," he murmured before landing on what the photographer guessed to be his name. "Found ya'. Okay, all UCSB group members are being housed in the Bancroft Hotel five blocks down. Here's the address; just follow this and you'll see the building on your right hand side. How many people are in your car?"

"Four." Jean said glancing over his shoulder just to make sure.

Removing four glossy pamphlets from the bottom of the stack of papers on the board, the man handed them to Jean who then dispersed them to Eren, Sasha, and Connie. "These are maps of the university and the surrounding neighborhoods. The places highlighted in green are competition locations and the building highlighted in red is the commons area where the majority of the workshops, lectures, and banquets will be held. If you have any more questions, just look for someone wearing one of these green vests," the man smiled. Standing up straight, he wished them good luck before waving them past through the checkpoint.

The Daily Nexus caravan briefly stopped at the hotel they had booked for the week; all twenty-two rooms that were available now acted as the teams' nerve center. After dropping off their bags, they walked the two blocks to the Martin Luther King Jr. Student Union building. At every turn there were throngs of college students lumped together with one or two advisers present as they assembled for registration. There was the rather fierce looking UCLA Daily Bruin news team and radio hosts, the laid back San Diego representatives, and USC group that glared daggers at the Bruins. Teams UC Davis and Merced were fairly friendly with one another and even mingled together outside of the campus Starbucks.

Despite the relative easiness of the atmosphere, Jean couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. Well, more like anyone that was part of the Daily Nexus was being watched. Looking to his left then his right, he caught the lingering stares from other reporters and photographers; some of which did not look too pleased to see the team there. Something was off and it was beginning to irk him. Leaning to the side, Jean tapped Eren on the shoulder to grab his attention.

"Hey, why is everyone staring at us?"

Taking a second to look around, Eren arched his brows appearing as if he were impressed. "Huh, I guess they are. Maybe it's because we cleaned house last year."

"And that's bad? Good?"

"Good for us, bad for them." Eren lowered his tone to a murmured, "A lot of the other universities wound up fighting for third because most of the awards were divided between us and Berkeley. The year before that it was us and San Diego so my guess is that everybody is looking to knock us down a notch or two."

"That's comforting to know."

Eren shrugged. "What do you expect. This is our Olympics and everyone wants gold."

"Well let's hope they play fairly," Jean said as he caught a man and woman from UC Riverside glaring at him.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Walking up the exterior stairs of the MLK Jr. Building, Levi lead the crew through the area as if he had it tattooed on his arm. Hanging a left, they continued straight until reaching the six white tables lined up in front of the entrance to the Pauley Ballroom. A woman with short brown hair, blunt bangs, and hazel eyes was busy chatting up the blue eyed blonde skater boy sitting next to her that she didn't see the professor. It wasn't until he cleared his throat and removed his aviators that she recognized him.

"Holy crap!" she beamed, shooting up from her chair. Reaching across the table, she gathered the man into an awkwardly positioned hug before releasing him with a chuckle. "It's great to see you Levi. You haven't come around since graduation. How've you been?"

"Hey Genna," Levi smirked. "I've been alright. Still not getting enough sleep."

"Figures. What are you doing here? Are you on staff with a publication?"

"Actually, I'm here to register my students."

Taking a quick look behind him, Genna immediately knew which group he was with. "You teach at Santa Barbara now? Damn. Did you even have to wait before they scouted you?"

A laugh rumbled deep in his chest as he shook his head. "Not really. But anyways, I got to sign in before their team orientation starts."

"Right. Well later we should grab a drink and catch up. You know Farlan was asked to be the adjunct for the media arts department here. You guys will probably bump into each other sooner or later today."

"Yeah, he told me," Levi said as he signed the necessary paperwork and handed his driver's license over so that the man next to her could make a photocopy of it. "I'll likely see him at the proctor meeting later tonight since he's overseeing the feature writing competition."

"I forgot about that." Genna smiled. Handing him the twenty-two black lanyards with the staff's photo ID's with their registration numbers below Levi's signature, the petite brunette stood up and walked around the table to give her old classmate a real hug--bear style. "God, it's so good to see you again. I miss the Golden Era when you were keeping everybody in their place."

"I'm sure you guys are getting along just fine without me. Tell Anka I said Hi, 'kay."

Waving goodbye as the Nexus team entered the ballroom, Levi ignored the sideways glance he got from Ymir and Marco. He knew they didn't mind him fraternizing with old college pals any other day of the week but it was different during JACCU. However, he was their adviser now which meant he was no longer required to be the same competitive asshole he once was.

"What?" Levi said flatly to Ymir.

"Nothing. I just didn't know that you still talked to your old team."

"Of course I do. They're my friends and it doesn't matter what school I met them at either, not that it's any of your business."

"I'm just saying I'm surprised is all," she muttered as they sat down in the section of chairs that had been set aside for the Nexus and KCSB teams. "Have you talked to Farlan and Is since the wedding?"

"Yeah. I've visited them a couple of times." After doing a headcount, the man relaxed into his seat between Shadis and Ymir. "I drove up last July for Mica's birthday. I still can't believe how big he's gotten."

"I still can't believe they have a three year old. They're only a year older than you."

"Yeah, well, they were together for a long time before they settled down so it's understandable. It's just strange to think how much time has passed."

It had been almost ten years since Levi had graduated high school and six since he had graduated from Berkeley. Like his graduate years at UCSB, he had been the editor in chief for the Daily Californian with Farlan as his managing editor and Isabel as the photo editor. In the time they spent at the head of the publication, they had gone from nameless undergrads to local celebrities despite their abhorrence for at the idea. They had become legends and the photo taken on their last day as the "Holy Trinity Team" was framed and hung in the newsroom. 

Levi felt the familiar bubbling of nostalgia churn inside him, warming his heart as he thought back to those long days and even longer nights that he and his editing team spent chained to their desks, working down to the wire while taking ten minute breaks for Chinese food and coffee runs. It was torture but he wouldn't change a second of it. Being a journalist meant suffering for your job and everyone in that class knew it. That's why they worked so well together. All of them were crazy and had quirks to their personalities that lent itself to their writing photography style. And when it came time for them to walk across that stage and grab hold of their diploma's, they did so knowing that they had done something that mattered.

Looking away from the orientation and welcome speech, Levi spotted his two friends leaning against the wall next to the stage. They must be part of the speaker line-up since they were the third and fourth person standing in the row. Catching his gaze, the slender redhead lit up and jabbed her husband in the side. When Farlan saw who she was pointing at, he smiled and waved. Allowing himself a low chuckle, Levi smirked and jerked his chin at them as a greeting. They looked happy; like they had been getting enough sleep as opposed to when their son was born and they were getting zero sleep and Is was on the brink of killing Farlan over changing the dirty diapers. 

The times definitely had changed and they along with it. But Levi was the same now as he was back then; too focused on work to settle down or to even bother with finding himself a partner. The few guys he had dated in college didn't last long to say the least. But it wasn't his fault. He had a job and a newsroom to run and couldn't handle the neediness. He was better off alone. Or at least that's what he had convinced himself into thinking. And even if he wanted to indulge in some extra curricular activities, the LGBTQ scene wasn't exactly "happening" in Santa Barbara. 

Zoning out as the school president dragged on, spouting the same rubbish she had the year before, Levi occupied himself with entering the competition schedule into his phone along with the names of his students that were taking part. Typing in the breaking news group, he began tapping the keys to spell "Jaeger" when Eren's full name popped up. Staring at the young mans' caller ID picture, he felt his heart stutter. It was the picture he had taken the day they visited the botanic gardens and the fireflies had appeared along the path they had taken at sundown. 

Those bright swirling pools of emerald green with flecks of honey gold lurking in the depths warmed as the boys' smile rounded his cheeks and wrinkled his perfect nose. That pure smile that reflected what it meant to be young and free ignited small sparks in Levi that he tried desperately to extinguish. Eren was his student and looked to him as a mentor. These feelings were more than inappropriate; they were a betrayal of the trust that had been vested in him.

Adding Eren's name to the event contact list in the calendar on his phone, Levi quickly searched for the next name to add. As he tried to shake the uneasiness growing in his chest by focusing his attention elsewhere, he hadn't noticed Ymir who had been watching the whole time. She knew better than to mention it because Levi was vicious when he was backed into a corner. But she also recognized that look in his eyes and saw the picture of the person who had put it there. 

While she was initially surprised, it wasn't unexpected. The man had a thing for beautiful faces and unorthodox personalities; both of which Eren possessed. The only question was if Levi was brave enough to take hold of what he wanted. 

Ymir had seen what he could be like when he had set his sights and thoughts on obtaining what he desired; that's how he became the head of the Nexus, landed the job at Nat Geo, and beat out five other candidates for his current position as co-head of the media arts department. He was still young and full of fight. But was a chance at love with someone almost seven years his junior worth it? 

Part of Ymir hoped his answer would be "yes" because then Eren would stop acting like some love starved fool every time they were in close proximity to each other. However, even if there was a chance for them, it was going to take time. And with the boys' graduation date set for the following year, that meant Levi would have to make his move soon before Eren left for good.

\----------------------------------------------------

Following orientation and the commencement speech was lunch and what was called "free roam" which, when Jean had Eren explain it to him, basically translated into do whatever you wanted. So, taking the instructions to heart, the photographer wandered around the campus grounds and refined his mastery of film shooting. He was already skilled when it came to working with digital cameras but that golden crown for film comprehension still eluded him. And since Marco had a mandatory meeting he had to attend and Eren was competing in his first of four competitions, Jean took it as an opportunity to relax.

Jean spent the better half of the early evening meandering around the massive university grounds. He became lost twice and had to ask a student for directions but it was reassuring to know he wasn't the first visit to become so enraptured by his surroundings that he forgot which way he had come from. After touring the Faculty Club and snapping more than a few inquisitive photo's of the white Moses Hall, he hung out at the famed Woo Han Fai Hall--known for it's iconic Brutalist architecture. 

Most of the passerby's didn't mind his camera or the fact that they were, on occasion, captured by the lens. It was a nice reversal as compared to New York where people were in a rush to get from Point A to Point B and wanted nothing to do with a street photographer. Spending a little less then thirty minutes more at Woo Han Fai Hall, Jean left to meet up with his friends for dinner. He hadn't noticed that they had been texting him all day. Eren was the most insistent that he return immediately. Apparently Jean had forgotten to give back the keys to the Kia and his friend had to retrieve something from the trunk for tomorrow's morning competition.

The sun was setting just over the MLK Jr. building when Jean spotted his group waiting for him on the steps outside. Some of them looked hyped--still jacked from the new experience of travelling for a college conference--while others appeared to be more weary. Among those feeling a bit worn around the edges was Eren, Ymir, Taylor, Gottesman, and, surprisingly, Marco. He and his green-eyed friend usually couldn't stop teasing one another when they were in the same room so to see them both drained and speaking only when it was absolutely necessary was an unexpected turn of events.

"Man, you look like shit," Jean chuckled as he handed the keys over to Eren. "What the hell happened?"

"I was reminded why I hate boats," Eren said taking the key ring from his friend. Rising to his feet he continued with growing anguish. "Whose grand fucking idea was it to take a bunch of fucking college kids and stick them on some shitty dingy out in the middle of the fucking cold ass bay and have them try to shoot an urban fucking skyline in the middle of the God damn afternoon with the sun hitting from the other fucking direction?!"

"Wow. I've never heard you use that many obscenities in the same sentence."

"Exactly! I'm a calm guy but fuck me, a boat? Seriously?! And they didn't tell us anything beforehand; no prep just straight to the damn boat."

"I take it you don't want seafood tonight," Jean said. He couldn't help himself. It was too funny and from the pathetic smile on Eren's face, the joke was welcomed.

"No," Eren smiled weakly and shook his head. "I do not want seafood tonight. Actually, I think I'll just chill in my room and order room service."

"Do they even offer room service at the place we're staying?"

"I don't know. All I know is that I need a shower to get the smell of the wharf off me and then I need sleep."

"Sounds like a plan to me. See you back at the hotel then?"

"Yeah, see you there."

As Eren walked off, the rest of the group formulated a dinner plan. Some headed into town to grab a bite at The Flying Pig, which was apparently a local favorite and famed throughout Northern California. Other's decided to eat on campus and wander the grounds. Ymir could only sit down for forty-five minutes before she was off to judge the breaking news segment for broadcast journalists. It was going to be an interesting competition, to say the least, because Krista and Joanne were entered in it as the anchor representatives for UCSB. Reiner and Bertolt headed off to the campus pub with Connie, Sasha, Marlo, and Hitch for a game of billiards and a few pints. 

By the time everyone had dispersed, the only ones left were Marco and Jean. Sitting down beside the brunette, the photographer relaxed when the other finally gave in to the crippling exhaustion and rested his head against Jeans' shoulder. Marco had spent the better half of his day running from one meeting to another. He had already judged two competitions, completed six peer reviews, and led two roundtable discussions--one of which got a little heated when the current state of American politics came into play. He was more than spent; the natural glow in his features now dulled down by the weight of responsibility.

It pained Jean to see Marco this miserable. This wasn't his usual self. But there wasn't much he could do to stop the next three days from reeking havoc on him just like today had. However, he could soothe the raw edges that the days events had left. It may not be much but it was all he could offer.

Watching the sky turn from salmon pink to fuchsia then violet, Jean closed his eyes and pressed his cheek to the top of Marco's head. The brunette groaned lightly in response. Reaching out at the same time, they tangled their cool hands together; still not speaking a word. Jean craved moments like these. Those little spots of complete emotional ease when it felt like the sun was living within the confines of his ribs. Those moments when he felt so whole and fulfilled that there were literally no words available to describe how happy he was... 

This was one of those times and each heave of his lungs and stroke of Marco's thumb over his took him deeper into that bubbling joy. He hadn't felt this peaceful since he had arrived in Santa Barbara; well, at least not until he met Marco. The man had a talent for working his way under Jeans' skin without him even knowing so that when the photographer turned to look, the man was already a part of him; like he had belonged there this whole time. It was a strange thought but it was the truth.

Looking down, Jean smiled and lifted his free hand to pinch his companions' nose. "We should head back to the hotel if you aren't going to grab anything here or in town."

"What about you?" Marco grunted as he sat up straight. "I can hang in there if you want to go out."

Shaking his head, Jean rose to his feet patting the dust off his pants. "Nah, I'm fine. I had a late lunch." Sticking out a hand, his smile grew warmer when he saw the way brunette's hair was sticking up. "Come on, let's go back to the hotel. If we get hungry we'll just order something."

"You know, I'm getting this weird sensation of deja vu. I keep passing out on you."

"Do you see me complaining?"

"No," Marco chuckled as he took Jeans' hand and pulled himself to his feet. Without letting go of the hand in his, he wove their fingers more closely together as they began walking back to the Bancroft. "Maybe that's why it's so nice being around you. You're a lot easier to get along with than you initially let on."

"Well you're less of an asshole than I thought you'd be."

A burst of laughter escaped Marco's lungs as Jean spoke. "I wasn't that bad."

"You're a habitual flirt and snarky."

"Well you're too serious for your own good and live in your head."

"Frat boy." Jean snickered jokingly.

"Drama queen," Marco fired back.

"You have no idea," Jean grinned as he led them up the steps to the front door of the hotel. Heading toward the elevator, they paused to figure out which floor to stop on. "Hey, what room are you in?"

"Twenty-one on the top floor. You?"

"Twenty-two."

Marco smiled. "Well," he said but waited for the doors to close before he continued. "Did you want to hang out and watch something?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Then I guess the only question left is your place or mine?"

Faking deep thought, Jean smirked. "Yours. We passed out at my place last time."

The elevator doors opened and the couple stepped out onto the third floor. Kissing very briefly, they agreed to part for a half hour or so. Marco wanted to rinse off and unwind and Jean needed sometime to prep his camera equipment for tomorrow morning. He also wanted to be alone so that he could collect himself mentally before, potentially, heading to "bed" with Marco. It was ridiculous really, that he thought at any given moment, they may jump each other but that didn't mean it was out of the question. Or maybe he was just being over eager.

Once he had changed into his usual sleeping shirt and joggers, Jean got to work selecting which pieces of equipment he thought he would need and the ones he knew he would be required to have on him. The rules at this particular conference were much more stringent than the ones the convention for community colleges on the east coast practiced. Humming along to "I Could Die For You" by Red Hot Chili Peppers, Jean cleaned the five lenses he had brought with him--testing each one to make sure it was in working condition and not scratched or chipped. 

After that, he inserted his SD card into his laptop and cleared any junk pictures along with the ones that had been backed up on his external hard drive. Smiling again when the octopus's image popped up, he saved it to his drive before deleting it from the card. However, the next image was one he couldn't bring himself to trash even though it had been copied to his hard drive, a USB thumb drive, and his computer.

Zooming in to that sparkling smile and the dimples on Marco's tanned face, Jean remembered how perfect the set up was for that snapshot. It was one of those rare occasions when the weather and the scenery worked together to create the ideal canvas for a killer photo. It would have been a phenomenal landscape shot but the man on his board made it more eye-grabbing. The picture was one of Jeans' favorites but he hadn't shown it to anyone. Somehow it felt like it would be the same as bearing a part of his soul to the public; a part that he wasn't ready for anyone to see yet.

It was as he was looking into those eyes on his camera screen that Jean suddenly remembered he had a sort-of-ish date with the real thing. Wrapping up what he was doing, the photographer put the lenses and camera back in their carrying case and ejected the SD card--sticking it in the front zipper of his camera bag just to make sure he didn't forget it. He stopped in front of the mirror to fix his hair before deciding it wasn't worth the hassle. It was just going to end up messy again later after they passed out on the bed so there was no point.

Opening the door, Jean peered down the hall to make sure no one was around. The majority of the people in the newsroom and on the radio knew they were dating but he still didn't want to broadcast it. He also did not want it to look like they were already mating like rabbits after only two weeks. Deciding that the coast was clear, he closed the door to his room quietly behind him before walking the seven feet to room twenty-one. Taking a deep breath, he knocked twice. When there wasn't an answer, Jean turned the knob, finding it odd that it was unlocked.

Letting himself in, the photographer closed the door behind him; brows furrowing when he took a few steps forward and found that Marco wasn't passed out in bed. Instead he heard the soft tones of Claude Debussy's piano resonating from the bathroom. Pivoting to his right, Jean followed the sound. It was the famous Suite Bergamasque, but he could not remember the name of the particular piece that was playing. That wasn't to say he didn't know it though. It was a melody that had once happily haunted him in his dreams. It was calm, soothing... Everything that would remind one of a cool winter evening. Opening the bathroom door, the name came back to him.

"Clair de Lune?" Jean asked as he eyed Marco who was immersed in the hot bath from the chest down. Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned against the door frame wearing a fond smile. "You had me worried for a moment there. I thought someone from a competing school came in and dragged you off."

Smiling lazily, Marco opened his eyes. "Sorry, I lost track of time. It was a long day and the water felt nice."

"I could go if you'd like more time."

"Or you could join me," Marco offered, maintaining their shared eye contact. "There's plenty of room."

Quirking a brow, he quietly observed the brunette in the bath before pushing away from the door. Sitting down on the edge of the tub, he pushed his hands in his pockets to make sure they didn't wander. However, his eyes weren't as easy to tame as they watched pearls of water roll down Marco's neck, over his clavicle, and disappear into the faintly soapy water that lapped around his toned upper chest.

"What happened to taking it slow?" Jean asked looking from the water up to Marco.

"It's only a bath."

Jean could feel the weight of the words bear down on him. Pulling back from the edge of the bath, he thought about his two possible options at that moment. He could either excuse himself and leave or he could join Marco. It did not take him long to reach a decision. Leaning forward, Jean kissed the brunette long and sweetly with one hand cradling his finely sculpted jaw. After a minute, he parted from Marco and stood up with a shyness working it's way across his faintly blushing cheeks.

It was strange, undressing in front of Marco without the prospect of having sex hanging over them. Tugging off his shirt first, he bit his bottom lip as his fingers worked the ties on his sweatpants. Marco's eyes never left him as he slowly pushed his pants down to the lowest point of his hip. He paused there for a brief second, as if to tease the other man, before he drummed up all the courage he had to follow through and removed them from his body entirely. 

Standing there, bare and exposed, Jean felt more vulnerable than he had in years; possibly in his entire life. Part of him screamed to grab his clothes and leave. But the stronger side kept him where he was and his eyes locked onto Marco. He watched as the brunette's burning gaze trailed down from his face to his neck, shoulders, over his chest and waist before dipping farther down. When they returned to capture his amber eyes with his pools of warm honey brown, there was something softer lurking in there. Jean could see the raw desire that he knew Marco tried to hide from him. But it was offset by a sweet familiarity; an affection and fondness that usually only came after years of being together.

Offering him a hand, Marco helped Jean into the tub. They both laughed as he struggled to navigate the milky waters without hitting something in the process. Settling in on the side opposite of the brunette, Jean took a moment to appreciate the hot water. It had been years since he had the time to indulge in a leisurely bath. And even longer since he had the desire to do so. Rolling his head to the side he opened his eyes to see Marco looking back at him; a small smile gracing his dewy face.

"What?" Jean smirked.

"Nothing. I just wasn't expecting you to actually take me up on the offer." He chuckled as he playfully knocked his knee against Jeans'. "You're much more bold than I thought you'd be."

"Is that so?"

"Mmm," the brunette hummed.

As they sat there, eyes closed in the relative silence, Jean slid his arm up onto the lip of the bath. Brushing against Marco's fingers, he teased them with his own, musing lines along the ridge of his knuckles and down the side of his thumb. Taking Jeans' hand in his, Marco rolled his head to the side to look at their joined hands. He could feel the callouses on the tips of his index finger and thumb from what must have been years of writing and messing with hot photo equipment. At the bottom center of Jeans' palm, his fingers brushed over an old scar that had healed into hard bump that disrupted the lines and creases on the underside of his hand. 

Marco loved everything about that moment. The way the skin of Jeans' hand felt in his. The soft breathes the younger man drew in and released causing the water to falter around him. The way their knees gently pushed against each other and gave in to one another. If there was anyway to freeze time or slow it down at least a little, he wished desperately to know of it in that moment. That sickly sweet and peaceful second in time when everything seemed so perfect, he wanted to preserve it forever like a memento one would keep in the shoe box under their bed.

"You know," Jean spoke, still high off of the atmospheric bliss. "I've never shared a bath with someone. Not even my sister when we were little."

"Neither have I." Marco smiled. "None of my ex's wanted to and Ymir was afraid that she'd catch boy germs from me if we bathed together."

Jean laughed causing the water to slosh from side to side. "So she was a firm believer in cooties, huh?" he asked purposefully knocking their knees together. "I wonder what would happen if I asked her about it."

"She'd undoubtedly kill us both." Marco said matter of factly. 

Using his submerged hand to take hold of Jeans' right calf, Marco guided it up until it was out of the water and resting on his shoulder. Placing light kisses along the damp skin, Marco pressed his lips firmly against the ankle and worked a small pink spot into the smooth flesh covering the joint. Resting his head on the curve dipping into Jeans' foot, Marco chuckled when he felt the photographers toes flick his earlobe. They laughed for a long minute, appreciating the sensation of skin on skin without any strings attached. When they quieted down, Jean sighed--looking at their still joined hands.

"I don't get it," he rasped, clearing his throat of anything that sought to derail his words. "Why is this so easy with you? It's never been like this with anyone else."

"I guess we're just that compatible." Marco beamed, the dimples in his cheeks taking form and his eyes lit up.

Unable and unwilling to fight the urge anymore, Jean brought his leg down so that he could slide forward in the bath. Settling in the brunette's lap, he wrapped both arms around his neck and pulled him into a long deep kiss. Without missing a beat, Marco tilted his head back and opened his mouth allowing Jean to search it as much as he pleased. Their tongues slipped against each other while their hands groped for purchase on whatever was near. Jeans' gripped at Marco's broad shoulders and knotted in his silken chocolate hair. 

On the flipside, the brunette's left hand held steady at the nape of the photographer's neck; thumbing the patch of skin behind his ear soothingly. His other one moved down to rest at the small of his partners' back. A crooked smiled pulled at the corners of his lips when his hand smoothed over the twin dips at the base of Jeans' spine. He had never known another man, apart from himself, who also had the Venus dimples. Teasing them with the tips of his fingers, he was happily surprised by the soft moan it elicited from Jean. Pulling him closer, Marco tried to keep his composure but was--literally--hard pressed to do so.

"Marco," Jean breathed against his ear and with a rut of his hips, making the weakhearted brunette shiver. "Touch me."

"But..."

"Please," he insisted. "I need you to touch me."

Capturing that delicious mouth once again, Marco reveled in the simmering moans that spilled from Jeans lips when his hand fell further down and grabbed hold of the younger mans firm backside. Massaging the smooth skin in his hand, the brunette struggled not to rut up against him too quickly. He wanted to savor each and every second of this sweet surrender. Jean kissed Marco hard with an urgency that matched his own hunger. Nipping and kissing a trial to his partners' ear, the photographer whined in his throat when he felt Marco's length brush against his.

"Marco," he heaved kissing his ear. "Please. I can't..."

Those were the last words Marco needed for his control to snap. Tilting his head to recapture Jeans bottom lip with a playful nip, his hand moved from the back to rest between them. Taking both their members in his hand, Marco moaned loud enough for it to fill the room. It felt so good t grind into the heat of another but he forced himself to focus. Moving from Jeans' lips to his neck, the brunette began to mark him; leaving multiple spots to prove that this man--this strange beautiful puzzle of a human being--was his and no one else's. He devoured the moans and gasps that came every time he stroked their combined lengths. They ground their hips together in sync with the pumping of his hand; desperate for relief.

The heat grew and soon they couldn't say a word. Only cries of pleasure and the sound of water lapping almost violently at the edge of the bath echoed throughout the room. Marco was close and he could tell Jean was too. Dipping his head down a little, he kissed the beauty mark in the hollow of Jeans' throat--licking a trail down his chest. The photographers lungs stuttered when he felt Marco's tongue graze his left nipple. Biting his lip, he tightened his grip on the back of the brunette's head when the tongue swirled around it, teasingly as if to taunt the flesh. Bucking up into his partners' hand, Jean's head snapped back when Marco's teeth bit down gently on his nipple. The sensation coming from both his groin and his chest were too much for him to handle.

"Fuck..." Jean let out a strangled cry as he thrust into the continued movement of Marco's hand. Then, with a sharp gasp, Jean felt the tightening knot in his stomach give when the brunette's thumb circled the head of his overly sensitive member. Crying out one last time, Jean came hard. "Oh my God...M-Marco... Marco!"

Unable to hold on any longer, Marco kissed Jean hard as he pumped them one last time before he too found release. Groaning in the back of his throat, he was reduced to a shivering mess as spots of white and bright light danced across his vision. Breathing hard, he slumped back into the tub, shocked at how long it had been since he felt that good.

Resting his head against the tiled wall, the brunette worked on slowly catching his breath while Jean, who had collapsed into his chest, was doing the same with the added job of measuring his heart rate. Rolling his head forward, Marco placed his hands on either side of Jeans' face and pulled him into a deep but still reserved kiss. Pressing their foreheads together, he sighed.

"There's just no winning against you," Marco said with a defeated smile. "And here I was trying to hold myself back and be a gentleman."

Kissing Marco from the tip of his nose to his ear then neck, Jean breathed in that intoxicating scent that still clung to the brunettes' skin. "I don't care what the pace is anymore. I just want more nights like this."

"I want more nights like this too. I just," Marco paused rubbing his hands soothingly up and down Jean's sides, "I just don't want to screw this up."

"That's not possible," Jean pulled away and placed a loving chaste kiss on the corner of his lips. "I trust you Marco. I don't know why but I do so don't overthink everything. I'm supposed to be the one that's all in my head remember?"

"That's true," he chuckled while nuzzling into the crook of Jeans' neck. Sitting there quietly for a moment longer, breathing in each other Marco broke the silence. "We should get out before we prune."

"Gross," Jean feigned disgust as he relaxed against the top of the brunettes' head.

"Do you want to spend the night?"

"About time you asked."

Shaking his head, Marco shifted as Jean rose from the water. Helping each other out of the bath, they then dried off, both wrapping a towel around their own waist. After removing the stopper, Marco followed Jean into the bedroom. Feeling sleep upon him, Marco changed quickly into his sweatpants and old Moanalua High School tee shirt. After Jean had dressed and settled into bed, he followed once he had locked the door and turned off the lights. Grabbing his phone from the nightstand, Marco opened the alarm clock feature.

"What time is your competition tomorrow?" he asked as Jean curled up behind him with one arm gently draped over his waist.

"Mmm?" the photographer grumbled already succumbing to sleep. "Ten-thirty I think."

"Then I'll set it for eight so that we have time to shower and grab breakfast."

Nodding his response, Jean waited for Marco to set the phone down and turn toward him so that they were fitted together. Just like their first night together, their legs tangled together and their arms brought each other closer in a familiar fashion akin to couples that had been with one another for years. Tucking under Marco's chin, Jean smiled at the pleasant drumming of his steady heart beneath his ear. Kissing the spot, he settled in with the brunette wrapped comfortably around him.

"Night Marco. See you in the morning."

Kissing the top of his head, Marco smiled as he fell asleep. "Night love. See you tomorrow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for being so patient and waiting for this chapter! This previous week has been a real tosser so I wasn't able to get around to editing it until today.
> 
>  
> 
> So this is the list that Eren listens to when he's on a road trip or long drive with friends. His taste in music is pretty diverse and, at times, a bit too much because he likes comedic music as well. He used to be a scene kid and still holds on to a bit of his old eighth grader syndrome but we love him anyway.
> 
> *HIT LIST!*
> 
> -"E-Pro" by Beck  
> -"Que' Onda Geuro" by Beck  
> -"Girl" by Beck  
> -"Sexx Laws" by Beck  
> -"Timebomb" by Beck  
> -"Loser" by Beck  
> -"Business" by Eminem  
> -"Without Me" by Eminem  
> -"The Real Slim Shady" by Eminem  
> -"My Dad's Gone Crazy" by Eminem  
> -"My Band" by D12 feat. Eminem  
> -"Take Me Out" by Franz Ferdinand  
> -"Go Kindergarten" by The Lonely Island feat. Robyn  
> -"Dangerous To Go Alone" by Starbomb  
> -"The Simple Plot Of Metal Gear Solid" by Starbomb  
> -"I Can't Decide" by Scissor Sisters  
> -"Rich" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs  
> -"Man" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs  
> -"Pin" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs  
> -"Heads Will Roll" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs  
> -"Date With The Night" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs  
> -"Flathead" by The Fratellis  
> -"Whistle For The Choir" by The Fratellis  
> -"American Idiot" by Green Day  
> -"Jesus Of Suburbia" by Green Day  
> -"Give Me Novacaine/She's A Rebel" by Green Day  
> -"Homecoming" by Green Day  
> -"Whatshername" by Green Day  
> -"Welcome To Paradise" by Green Day  
> -"Sugar, We're Goin' Down" by Fall Out Boy  
> -"Plug In Baby" by Muse  
> -"Uprising" by Muse  
> -"Apocalypse Please" by Muse  
> -"Stockholm Syndrome" by Muse  
> -"Hysteria" by Muse  
> -"Knights of Cydonia" by Muse  
> -"Salute To Your Solution" by The Raconteurs  
> -"Blue Orchid" by The White Stripes  
> -"Fell In Love With A Girl" by The White Stripes  
> -"Joker And The Thief" by Wolfmother  
> -"Lump" by The Presidents of the United States of America  
> -"Reptilia" by The Strokes  
> -"Oblivius" by The Strokes  
> -"Ain't No Rest For The Wicked" by Cage The Elephant  
> -"Come A Little Closer" by Cage The Elephant  
> -"The Dark Of The Matinee" by Franz Ferdinand  
> -"This Fire" by Franz Ferdinand  
> -"Darts Of Pleasure" by Franz Ferdinand  
> -"40 Ft" by Franz Ferdinand


	7. Save Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren starts the day off on the wrong foot, the team experience some difficulties as the competition begins, Ymir gives Marco a reality check, an adviser puts their life on the line, and Eren falls into an emotional spiral.
> 
>  
> 
> \----------NOTICE!: The majority of this chapter will be Eren/Levi centered with an equal emphasis on both characters. Yes, this fic is primarily Marco/Jean but Levi and Eren are just as important and will become key players in the couples' lives later on.
> 
> \----------WARNING!: This is going to be a heavy chapter with dark themes such as character endangerment, violent flashbacks, and graphic descriptions of gore. Note that this will not be the permanent direction that the fic takes but it is necessary for character development. I apologize in advance to any of you reading that may feel uncomfortable later on in the chapter.

With a heavy, angry slap of his hand, Eren reached for the vibrating phone on his nightstand as it blared the theme to Mortal Kombat in his ear. He was more than a little exhausted after the evening and early morning he had to suffer through. It was enough having to listen to Marco and Jean go at it last night while he was trying to sleep off the splitting migraine he had been nursing all day; their loud moans and rocking echoed in his room like shouts rippling through a cave. He had considered banging on the ceiling once or twice but this was the first tail Jean had gotten in a while, so Eren played the role of a good wingman and padded his ears with pillows. However, he was more than pissed when they woke him up at 7:30 a.m.

Just because Jean was getting his jollies while they were right for the taking, that didn't mean he got to hold everyone hostage and force them to listen as he was jerked three ways to Sunday four damn times.

By 8:15, the man had had enough of their moaning. Throwing the blankets off of him, Eren slumped out of bed and grabbed his change of clothes on his way to the bathroom. Plugging his phone into the portable speaker, he cranked the volume up before hopping into the glass box that had already began to fog up from the heat. Singing along to "I'm Not Okay (I Promise)" by My Chemical Romance, the life slowly returned to the young mans' dull green eyes. 

Somewhere half way through the song, his noisy upstairs neighbors got the message and had piped down. But it didn't matter now. He was already up and after allowing the scalding water to beat the kinks in his shoulders and neck to a pulp, he felt somewhat better; not by much but it was an improvement to his mood thirty minutes ago.

Switching into a pair of black jeans--his favorite tried and true pair with the hand-sewn patch in the back pocket--he slipped on a black thermal shirt. Over the long sleeved base layer, he added his signature black and charcoal grey flannel and the dark green cargo vest he wore whenever he was out on assignment. After rolling up the sleeves of both his flannel and thermal, Eren tugged on his beaten and scuffed matte black Doc Martins. 

Deciding it had been too long since he had worn his piercings, he donned a basic septum ring and brow bell. He didn't feel like wearing any in his ears and he knew that the facial pieces tended to close quicker than the others he had. Fixing a grey beanie over his unruly chestnut hair, his black specs to the bridge of his nose, and adjusting the strap to his leather cuff watch on his left wrist, Eren took a final glance at the mirror before agreeing with what he saw. Grabbing his camera bag, two SD cards, and a vanilla Starbucks double shot drink, he left his hotel room.

"You're up early," Marlo said from his seat at one of the tables in the dining area. He was at a loss for words since he rarely saw his photo editor up and running before nine o'clock. "What's the occasion?"

Too tired to mince his words Eren grumbled, "Two fucking rabbits were going at it and woke me the fuck up." Collapsing into the chair opposite of the senior, he slammed his head on the table top while both his arms hung slack at his sides. "I swear, I'm going to kill them both and wear their guts as garters."

"That's pretty dark, Jaeger. I take it we aren't talking about rabbits here."

"No kidding," he sneered.

Yet, it wasn't just the relentless moans and thumping that had him chomping at the bit that morning though. It had been close to two decades since the accident that had robbed him of his mother and fours years since he had experienced the crippling nightmares that used to haunt him. The sound of screeching tires, metal screaming as the car flipped, and the smell of gasoline coating hot asphalt in the dead of summer... It was all so vivid in his mind--not losing an ounce of potency yet gaining a whole new level of weight as more of the missing pieces fell into place.

It was a mellow day, like any other. Nothing about it was special enough to distinguish it apart from the rest of the week. Eren and Jean had just finished their junior soccer league game and it was Carla's turn to pick the boys up since Jean's parents were out of town and Grisha had been called in for an emergency appendectomy. He remembered that it was an away game so she had to take the highway on the way back from Manhattan. Eren was in the middle of playing I Spy with Jean when there was a sudden screech in front of them. There wasn't enough time to register what was happening. 

As Eren called to his mother, their car slammed into the car that had spun out in ahead of them. Another car rammed into theirs at full speed, launching them over the vehicle that they had hit moments ago. He remembered Carla telling them to hold on to each other before they were hit from behind. He also remembered Jeans' hands pulling at the chest strap of his seatbelt to make sure he didn't slip out. As they flew through the air, time seemed to slow down and it were as though gravity did not exist. Everything happened so slowly that he could count the fragments of broken glass floating in front of his eyes. He could hear Jean screaming at him to hang on and he could see his mother lifting her hands to protect her face before the car hit the ground and everything went black.

The next thing the boy remembered was the sound of police sirens and firefighters telling him to stay calm as they positioned the massive hydraulic rescue tools or "Jaws of Life" over the passenger door. When they had finally pried him and Jean from the car, he had been upside down long enough that his legs gave out and his vision was spotted. Everything was so bright and his ears were ringing; he had thought that somehow, during the accident, he had obtained superpowers. But rather than gaining strength, Eren collapsed to his knees before blacking out.

"Eren?" spoke a familiar voice.

Blinking wildly, the brunette rubbed his eyes as he came out of the daydream. Standing next to him was Marco and a rather refreshed looking Jean. Glancing down, he took in how casually their hands were laced together.

"Hey, are you okay?" Jean asked, now more than a little worried. "You don't look too good. I thought you went to sleep early last night."

"Yeah, I did," he grumbled. "But you two were so loud that it woke me up--both times."

"Damn it," Jean sighed. Hiding his embarrassment, he placed a hand on Eren back as if to apologize. "I'm really sorry. I...I don't really know what to say except that I'm sorry. If you want, I could talk to Levi or Keith and..."

"Whatever, I'm fine. It's not like this isn't the first time I've had to work off of three hours of sleep."

"Shit, Eren I'm really--"

"Stop it!" Eren snapped causing everyone in the room to tense up. He never lashed out like that; especially at his friends. "Sorry, I'm just tired," he said in a softer tone. "It was a rough night but not because of you. Look, have fun and do whatever you two want. Just keep the volume down, 'kay."

"Right," Jean said not buying a single word the other had muttered. But there wasn't anything he could do or say to change the situation. "Did you want to grab some coffee? There's a Starbucks down the street."

"No, it's fine. You two should sit down and eat. I have to check-in for the sports photography competition."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm alright." Eren lied as he rose to leave. Grabbing his camera bag, he patted Jean on the shoulder then turned to Marco and smirked, "Next time, do it in a room with less acoustics or screw him from behind so at least he's yelling into the pillows."

"Seriously Eren?!" Jean gawked; stunned that he would say such a thing in public.

Smirking at them as he left, Eren exited the main lobby and stood on the front steps for a long moment. Taking a deep breath, he craned his head back; smiling as tiny beads of mist tickled his cheeks and eye lashes. With a soft sigh, he opened his bright eyes to see Levi take a candid shot of him. In a delayed reaction, Eren lifted his arm to hide his face from the lens. He may be a photographer but that did not mean he liked having his photo taken; rather, it was the opposite.

"Really Levi?" the editor complained, glowering at the adviser through his glasses. "Isn't it a bit early in the morning for stalking your students?"

"You think I was hiding in the bushes, waiting for your skinny ass to mosey on through the door?" Levi fired back with a wicked crooked smile. "I was on my way back from a mandatory meeting for the proctors that'll be overseeing today's competitions. Don't flatter yourself kid."

"I wasn't trying to," Eren huffed as he jerked his camera bag onto his shoulder.

Watching Eren as he walked down the steps, Levi could tell something was off. He knew his editors almost like the back of his hand but this one kid in particular had a talent for hiding behind that cheery, albeit, cocky facade of his. It wasn't that Eren was a liar or was always on the defense. No. It was more like he kept the world at an arm's length; only allowing people to see what he wanted them to see instead of what was really lurking behind those entrancing eyes.

But just because Levi couldn't get a clear read on him, it didn't mean that he wasn't aware that something was wrong. Eren wasn't himself today. And he hadn't been a few days ago when he caught the young man passed out on the couch in the newsroom. Hell, even before that there was a distinct difference in the way he had been behaving and it was getting worse. It wasn't the typical college student burn out although Eren was prone to working himself into a state of total and complete exhaustion. But this was different. Levi could see it.

"Hey," Levi said calmly as he took hold of Eren's arm as the young man passed. "What's up?"

Knitting his brows together from confusion, Eren tried to brush the cool fingers from his elbow as he answered. "Umm, the sky? Birds, maybe...?" 

"Funny, kid," the adviser faked amusement before his expression returned to a more serious state. "Honestly though, you don't look alright. Did you get enough sleep?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't look like it. Eren, is something wro--"

"Stop!" Eren snapped, slapping the gentle hand away. Backing away from Levi who stood frozen in place, the young man looked down at his shoes before clearing his throat. "I'm just tired. I didn't sleep well last night and I've got a lot on my mind right now. Everyone asking me 'what's wrong' isn't helping me either so, please, just...leave me alone. Please?"

Nodding slowly once, Levi forced himself to speak. "'Kay," he said, the word feeling dry and sharp in his throat. "I'll leave you alone. But I'm here if you want to talk, or not. You can just sit there and not say anything. But I'm around if you need me."

"Thanks," he choked allowing a weak smile to pull at the corners of his lips before it faded completely. "I have to go. Check-in for sports photography starts in ten minutes. So, uh, I'll see you later I guess."

"Yeah," the adviser murmured watching Eren leave without so much as another word. "See ya'."

\-----------------------------------------

The competition for the sports photography portion had gone like clockwork; if that was even a fair comparison. Most of the group hadn't paid attention to the emphasis the proctors had put on "capturing the energy of the moment" which roughly translated to take pictures of the game with reactions from the crowd in the background. The photographers who had listened were the usual suspects from Berkeley, UCLA, and USC as if that were much of a surprise. Yet despite the caliber of the few experienced photojournalists he was up against, Eren was confident that he had taken a shot that was good enough to keep the crown from slipping from UCSB's hands.

Hiding out in the back of the cafeteria with the volume up on his earbuds, Eren waited for the notification text that would tell him where to go for the next on-spot competition. He had been edgy all day and the hours weren't getting any shorter so he tried to mellow out before he was thrown into the arena again. The editor had done back-to-back matches before like this but he was off this year. 

Sleep had been dogging him for weeks; being the elusive temptress he knew it to be yet still pursuing it with pitiful hope. When he finally did manage to grab some shut eye, it was interrupted. Last night it was Jean and Marco moaning like banshee's. Two days before that it was the yappy Pomeranian, Digit, that was nothing if not the bane of his college existence. And when it wasn't the fuzzball from Hell waking him up, it was the dreams themselves that forcefully ejected him from the slumber. 

It had gotten to the point where the only place Eren could manage to sleep was the newsroom. He felt at ease there; safe and welcomed. The smell from the stacks of old newspapers that they had yet to recycle calmed his nerves as did the florescent lights that hummed overhead. The cool touch of the desk on his cheeks as he napped soothed the chaos his mind and the familiar form of his chair cradling his sore aching back felt like the comforting touch of mother, patting her child until they were soundly asleep.

There had been many nights where he was the last to leave; often after 11:30. After finishing his page design and pressing the photo's the section editors needed for their layouts, Eren would lay on the couch staring up at the spotted drywall panels above him. For hours, he would count the holes or connects the dots to make constellations on the ceiling. The silence and isolation was relaxing. It allowed him to escape from everything and everyone, including himself. He wasn't as social as everyone thought. Recharging his batteries often took days to do and even then it wasn't enough. 

Eren could feel himself drowning under the weigh of the world but he couldn't find a way out. Every chance he got to break through for air was countered by the oppressive force keeping him just below the surface. He needed help. He needed someone to talk to but who was there to listen? He couldn't talk to Connie or Sasha because they were busy with work and school just like he was. And they were in the process of buying their first apartment together so adding that extra burden to them would be wrong.

He couldn't talk to Sam or Taylor or any of the other editors because they couldn't understand the pressure he was under. They didn't know him like Sasha and Connie did; but even those two did not get him completely. The only person that really knew Eren--through and through--was Jean. But he had finally found himself someone who made him happy, someone that actually cared and saw him for who he was not what they wanted him to be, and Eren wasn't about to ruin that. They were best friends which was precisely why he couldn't say anything to him. So he would just keep treading water until someone came along who could handle the shit he was going through.

Feeling his phone vibrate, Eren opened his eyes to glance at the screen. The group for the 10:30 a.m. breaking news photography competition was to meet at the MLK Jr. building in ten minutes. Sighing listlessly, he dragged himself from the chair, grabbed his camera bag, and left.

The air was still damp and frigid, coating everything it touched with a thin veneer of condensation. It collected on the tips of his eyelashes and hair, wetting them just enough that his curls clung to his forehead and his lashes stuck to one another. Breathing in between his cupped hands before rubbing them together, Eren turned the corner, catching sight of the crowd of students that had gathered at the steps of the designated building. Hanging back on the fringes was Jean. He was texting someone--most likely Marco--but stopped when that sixth sense of his kicked in.

\------------------------------

Looking up, Jean jerked his chin at Eren as was their way of saying 'hi.' Hopping down from the stone pedestal he had been sitting on, the fellow photographer made his way over to his friend. Smacking their hands together with a solid shake at the end, Jean smiled.

"I was wondering where you were." Looking at the earbuds looped around Eren's neck, Jean chuckled, "Let me guess, knocking at the sky?"

Smirking, Eren nodded while he pivoted to the side and rubbed his hands together. "Yeah, for a little while."

"Anyone answer?"

"Nah. Just white noise," Eren said looking off into space. "Hey," he spoke, caught in a trance almost. "Sorry for being an ass earlier. There's been a lot going on and I haven't been taking it well."

"You wanna talk about it? I'm here if you need me Eren, you know that right?"

Eren pressed his lips into a tight smile since it was the best he could manage at the moment; the gesture barely reaching his eyes. "I know. I just...there's some things I have to figure out on my own first. I'll let you know though."

"Well whenever you're ready, let me know." Jean was still unconvinced but after their blow out that morning, he knew he had to tread with caution.

"I will. And by the way, tell Marco I'm sorry if I embarrassed him or you guys. I really am happy for you two in all honesty."

No, this wasn't right. It was one thing if Eren apologized to Jean. But it was quite another for him to apologize to, well, anyone that wasn't his best friend. The guy didn't even say he was sorry when he "accidentally" broke into Grisha's basement study when they were kids and knocked over two massive shelves of books; some of which landed in the fireplace. He had nearly burned the family home down to the ground but, even then, he did not apologize until Carla had scolded him.

A light went off in Jeans' head at that moment. 'Could that be what this is all about?' he thought taking a long sideways glance at his friend. It would certainly explain Eren's behavior if the nightmares were back but there was usually some sort of trigger that caused them. Sometimes the guy would drink himself silly and wind up having flashbacks to the accident. But that only lasted a day or two and Eren had been working non-stop for the past three weeks with little to no down time. It couldn't be from exhaustion because that would have meant he had been living with these terrors on and off for the last year or so. And if that was the case, Eren would have told him by now. Or at least, Jean hoped we would have.

Before he could open his mouth to ask him if the old haunts were back, Jean was cut off by Levi's sudden appearance. At his side was a man with just as bit taller than him with shaggy ashen blonde hair and piercing silver eyes. Surveying the group as his fellow proctor took roll call, the mystery mans' scrutinizing gaze fell on the pair of photographers from UCSB. Doing a brief once over of Jean, his attention wandered to Eren--raking up and down him as if he were to weigh and measure the brunette for the next draft. When those eyes darted back to Jean, he felt a shiver charge up his spine and his body go rigid. 

Those pools of pure molten mercury were far more intense than Levi's and they held a quite, almost threatening dare in them for anyone foolish enough to try and pull a wise one. From the way he was standing next to Ackerman, Jean could guess that they were close; old college buddies maybe. But why was he staring at Eren like that and shooting daggers at Jean?

"Alright, now that everyone has been accounted for, my name is Levi Ackerman and I will be one of your proctors for this competition. I am a professor of photography and visual media at UC Santa Barbara. The man next to me, some of you may know, but for those of you who don't, well," Levi paused turning to the man while quirking a brow.

Changing his expression for the first time since his initial appearance, the man smirked and took a step forward. "Most of you know me but I am Farlan Church, professor of photography and photojournalism at UC Berkeley. I will be acting as your second proctor for the afternoon. This competition will be held by the juncture of Addison Street and Bolivar Drive at the San Francisco Bay Trail.You're objective is to catch the event as it happens. What that event is," Farlan paused as a devious smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth. "Lets just say you'll know when you see it."

"Right," Levi barked clapping his hands together. "The charter buses are waiting in the parking lot across the street. If you are not currently wearing your press badge, please take it out now as it will be the only way you are allowed onto that bus. No badge, no ride. I don't care if you cry me a river because you will be walking back to campus if you lose that ID."

As the group made its way across the street, Jean kept his eye on Levi and Farlan. They were, without a doubt, friends and close ones at that since on numerous occasion within the time span of two minutes, he had seen his adviser crack a smile not once, but twice and laugh. 'So he can do more than just scowl at you,' Jean mused as he watched them interact. Though, during his observation, he caught on to some strange behavior coming from Levi.

Every so often, he would glance back at Eren like he were checking in on him or something. It wasn't a gesture of suspicion or caution; but more one out of concern or kindness. And if the body language didn't give him away, his eyes did. Levi had the same expression on his face that Jean did when he first ran across Eren that morning. He knew something was up too but he didn't know what. They both were in the dark and the only person that could shed some light on the situation was forcefully shutting the world out.

While they filed onto the bus, a soft haze of drizzle damped the air. It wasn't substantial enough to be considered rain but was dense enough to be more than the typical fog that loomed over the bay area until the mid-afternoon sun could chase it away. Stepping into the heated cabin, Jean followed Eren to the seventh row where they sat down on the right hand side. 

Looking at his friend who was already looking out the window, Jean tried to form his question but was cut off when the brunette jammed his earbuds into his ears and closed his eyes--pressing the side of his forehead against the cool glass pane. Blocked out entirely, the photographer sighed and pressed his head into the back of his seat. Closing his eyes as the bus started to turn onto the main street, Jean tried to stop the gears in his head from spinning out of control. 

Eren may mean the world to him but, at that point in time, the guy was out of reach and he had to focus. If the photo editor dropped the ball, it was up to Jean to take the winning shot on this outing. They were the only people from their school competing for breaking news photography and he wasn't about to let the team down. So Jean tuned out everything else and listened to the echoing of rain on the windows; letting it drown out the white noise until the only thing left was silence.

\----------------------------------------------

Marco watched as the faint drizzle weighing down the late morning air evolved into a steady rain that coated the grass at the Edwards Stadium. He and Ymir were waiting for word if their on-spot competition would be cancelled due to the unexpected weather change or postponed until it cleared up. It was ridiculous to have a mock soccer match in the rain all for the sake of a journalism meet. The broadcasting group could find another sport to commentate on that didn't involve the athlete's being caught out in the rain. But that wasn't his call.

Sitting in his padded leather anchors' chair with both arms folded across his stomach, the brunette stared through the glass of the broadcasters booth. Stuck in a daze, he watched as one man in khaki's and a dark blue polo and white jersey jacket ran halfway across the field while using the collar of his coat as a rain visor. Meeting with a the ref who had joined him in the downpour, they spoke for a brief moment, exchanged a curt nod, and then went back the way they came. Moments later, Ymir walked into the booth shaking off the cool chill that had worked its way up her spine.

"No word yet on if they're cancelling. Although, if you ask me the ref's don't seem too happy about any of this," she said walking up behind him before sitting in the co-anchor chair to his left. "Marco?"

"Hmm?" he hummed suddenly coming out of the trance. "Sorry, I heard you but I was just thinking."

"About Jean?"

"Yeah. He's been a little distant since the talk with Eren this morning. I don't know why but, I feel like something's wrong."

"Have you tried texting him?" Ymir asked, genuinely concerned for both her brother and Jean if that were the case.

"I have and he said he's fine and that we're fine--"

"But he's not saying what's on his mind," Ymir finished the sentence.

"Yeah," Marco said dimly as he turned his gaze back to the rain outside. "I really have it bad for him, sis. It's never been this bad but, I don't know, he's got me all turned 'round. And I know he's said he feels the same way and part of me understands that the distance from this morning isn't because of me but the other part of me is freaking out over how I could have already screwed this up."

"Well, the next time you guys have a moment, talk to him," Ymir said, stressing the last three words. "You've always been good with your words Sprout but you never trust them when it comes to relationships. Maybe this time you should just spill it and hope that what you're feeling gets across to him."

"But what if it's too much too soon?"

Ymir sighed through her pursed lips while she thought before she turned to face her brother. "I don't know Sprout. The relationship you guys have going on is a lot different from the ones you've had in the past so I, honestly, can't tell you what the best course of action would be in that case. But, as crazy as it seems, you guys have a strong connection and I'd trust in that if I were you. I fell for Krista the moment I saw her and we've been together for years. You just got to trust your partner, Marco. Hash it out, see what's got him bugging, and then move forward. And if he ends up breaking your heart, well, I'll break his nose."

Chuckling, Marco bit his bottom lip as a smile attempted to work its way across his face. "Thanks sis. I feel stupid for acting this way. It's just--"

"Love," Ymir said with a softness to her voice he had never heard before. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she smiled and nodded. "It's love."

Reaching up, Marco rested his hand on top of hers. Releasing a long heavy sigh, the brunette struggled to reel in both his heart and his head. Love? He was in love? Since when? When did it happen? The longer Marco thought about it, the more the time and date eluded him. But the one resounding fact was that it was true. He had fallen hard and fast and without any warning for Jean. And it hurt. It hurt and the word felt heavy, like a lead brick dragging him to the bottom of the ocean yet, at the same time, made him feel lighter than air. He was drowning on dry land and he loved every minute of it if it meant seeing that smile for a second longer. It was a terrifying feeling and, looking out the window, Marco wondered if Jean was feeling the same thing.

"It's really starting to come down out there," Ymir breathed; the words hanging in the air with the lingering silence.

Looking up at the clouds then back to the field, Marco swallowed the pent up anxiety building in his throat. "It really is."

"Wasn't Eren and Jean's competition supposed to start around now?" When her brother only nodded, Ymir paused momentarily before turning to gaze out the window. "I hope they're alright out there."

\-----------------------------------------------

The clouds above had given way to a heavy brutal rain that kicked at the windows of the small cafe the band of students and two faculty members were hiding out in as they awaited a confirmation on the postponement of their competition. Glaring at the water as it battered against the window, Levi felt his mood sour. He had a good nights' rest, woke up feeling alright, had a filling breakfast and managed not to die of boredom during the proctors meeting that morning. But after that strange encounter with Eren earlier in the day, things had slowly taken a turn in the other direction.

Not only was the kid still acting totally out of his normal character, but it annoyed Levi that this somehow bugged him more than it should. He had presented him with plenty of opportunities to talk but he shot every one down; even Kirstein was telling him it was best to just let him be. It was grating on his last nerve and now, as if to match his mood, it was raining. Great.

Glancing at his phone, Levi opened the message from Keith. Grunting out of both annoyance and satisfaction, he shoved the device in his back pocket.

"About damn time," Levi grumbled as he turned to face Farlan who was nursing his second cup of coffee. "The committee is calling for an immediate postponement of all off-campus competitions. We've been told to regroup and head back in."

"Took 'em long enough." Farlan snorted with a smile that was a mixture of fed up and pissed off. "We've been out here for the better half of an hour and they're telling us this, now? Man, they've done a piss poor job at planning things around the weather. Seriously," he said standing up from the table. "It's San Francisco in March. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that it's going to rain."

"Fucking shit job is more like it," Levi chuckled knocking back the remainder of his Americano. Pivoting on one foot, the shorter of the two addressed the students that had been sitting around waiting for a response from the higher ups. "Alright guys, good news. You don't have to shoot in the rain. The committee has called all off-campus groups back to the university. The competition will resume when the weather clears up. So let's pack it in. Come on, get up and start moving."

As Levi ushered the students to the door and toward the bus, he caught sight of Eren. Making eye contact, he mouthed the words, 'You okay?' The young man just smiled weakly and nodded. They both knew he was lying and that the kid wasn't feeling at all like himself, but what could he do? Maybe when they got back to the hotel he could pull Eren aside and have a talk with him. Levi knew that the guy was the kind of person to retreat into himself when he was feeling down or vulnerable. It was normal behavior when kept to a harmless minimum. But everyone needed to vent or they'd implode. Even he talked to Farlan and Isabel when shit got tough. 

Come Hell or high water, he was going to find out what was eating at that kid. If not for Eren's sake than for his own peace of mind. He'd already lost enough sleep worrying about the kid in previous semesters and he wasn't about to let it become a regular thing this time around.

One by one, the thirty-eight students and two advisers left the cafe and walked the one block over to the crosswalk that separated them from the buses. When the light changed, mostly everyone jogged or ran across the street. They were all carrying expensive equipment that ranged anywhere between $3k and $20k a person depending on the setup they had. The gear in Kirstein's camera bag rounded out to about $13k and his was just the camera with three different lenses. Needless to say it was nothing you wanted getting wet.

Banging at the door on the charter bus, Levi stepped to the side as the panel popped open and slid to the left. Standing to the right, he and Farlan counted the students as they boarded. Checking their names off one at a time, the shorter male noticed one was missing. Hopping onto the vehicle he double checked, walking down the aisle counting every person present and muttering their names under his breath.

"Thirty-seven," Levi breathed, dripping wet from the pouring rain but paying it little concern. "We're missing one." Turning around sharply, he looked at Jean. "Kirstein, where's Jaeger?"

Opening his eyes, Jean looked to the empty aisle seat that his friend was supposed to be in. "What the fuck?" Jean murmured. Levi could see the confusion growing when the photographers eyes met his. "He was right behind me when we left the cafe."

"Shit," Levi growled through gritted teeth. Breezing past Farlan, he stormed toward the door and exited the bus. "Jaeger?!"

The man strained his eyes as he tried to see past the furious rain. It was coming down harder than it was ten minutes ago and now there was a haze from the heavy pellets that crashed against the ground and surrounding buildings. Levi could feel his pulse race as he stepped further away from the bus. He couldn't make out anything solid against the current backdrop of grey shops, grey skies, and muted lighting. Cursing under his breath, he turned a shouted at Jean and Farlan who had followed him outside to search the parking lot and the neighboring convenience store to see if Eren had gone in there to buy something.

Back tracking their steps, Levi stopped at the crosswalk when he saw Eren leave the cafe they had just come from. A sigh of relief escaped him when he saw that the kid was safe and in one piece. First, he shouted to Jean and Farlan who were about fifty or so feet away to tell them he had found Jaeger. Then, turning back he called out to the kid; telling him to hurry his ass up or else there would be hell to pay.

As Eren crossed the street, Levi took his eyes off of him for a brief moment to check if the other two members of the search party had retreated back onto the bus. In that split second he heard tires screeching. Snapping to attention, he saw a sedan lose control after it hydroplaned from the slick roads. Without thinking, Levi bolted toward Eren who had only now noticed the vehicle careening toward him.

Using all the strength he had and then some, Levi shoved Eren out of the way and took the full impact of the car as it hit him head on. Reacting just quick enough to fold hims arms against his chest and grip the back of his neck with his right hand, he hit the windshield hard enough that the glass buckled and cracked as he rolled over it. The smell of burning break pads coated his nose and choked his lungs as he tumbled across the roof and trunk of the car before smacking the ground with brutal force. He could hear the sound of the sedan hit what he assumed was a light post and the muddled voices of people shouting to him. But in that moment, all he could see as he laid on his side in the pouring rain retching in air were those emerald green eyes that stared back at him from the sidewalk.

"Thank God," Levi breathed as he closed his eyes.

\------------------------------------------

Running across the street, Farlan ordered Jean to go take care of Eren while he handled Levi. Coming to a skidding halt, the man dropped to his knees and checked the downed adviser for any life-threatening wounds. When everything appeared to be relatively okay, he called out to his friend asking him if he could hear him. When Levi told Farlan to piss off, the blonde laughed aloud as he tried to hold back his tears. That stubborn idiot couldn't be trusted with his own life which was why he had been gifted with Farlan as his best friend. But even with him present, the guy still managed to get hit by a car.

"You crazy bastard," Farlan chuckled, bracing Levi's sore back and shoulder with his hand. "I can't take my eyes off you for a minute without you doing something to piss me off."

"Like you wouldn't have done the same?" Levi laughed then instantly winced at the pain in his ribs. 

Rotating onto his back, he could hear the sirens blaring in the background and a warmth pooling near the back left side of his head. Reaching up with his right arm, Levi touched the spot that was throbbing and twinged when he felt a sharp jolt shoot from his skull to the base of his spine. Pulling the hand away, he was mesmerized when he saw how much blood had coated his fingertips. He was going to need stitches, no doubt. And looking at the embedded shards of glass in his right arm, he knew that was going to take some mending. But nothing felt broken; at least right now it didn't. Levi was durable like that--always had been, which was why he knew he could take that hit and walk away in one piece whereas Eren may not have been as lucky.

"How's the kid?" Levi groaned as he sat up.

"Kirstein's handling it," Farlan said when the sound of raised voices caught his attention. "Though I see with failing success."

"He's going into shock."

"Levi?!" Farlan snapped as the man stood up, ignoring his own state and well-being. "Oh for fucks sake, fine. Make your injuries worse!"

On the opposite side of the street, Eren was in the middle of a complete emotional collapse. It had started that morning with the flashbacks and continued to grow until the moment he hit the ground unscathed and watched Levi be flung through the air like a lifeless ragdoll. He was panicking; the shock of the moment was too much and enough to make him snap.

Fighting against Jean as he tried to stop him from moving, Eren screamed and thrashed against the hands holding his arms steady. He was shaking violently. Every inch of him was on fire with the overflowing energy that had nowhere to go but up and into his nerves. Somewhere between sobbing, yelling, and hyperventilating, Eren struggled to determine what was real in that moment and what was just his mind playing tricks on him.

Images of blood speckling the ground above him; but it wasn't above him, he was just upside down. The smell of burnt rubber and gasoline in the sweltering summer heat. Jeans' voice telling him to hold on and glass floating through the air like drops of rain frozen in place. '1, 2, 3, 4, 5,' Eren counted the imaginary beads of floating glass under his breath between sobs. '1, 2, 3, 4, 5.' When Jean tried to touch his shoulders, Eren growled pushing him away. He couldn't stop. He couldn't stop remembering. He couldn't stop the sight of his mother's corpse being dragged from the wreck from dancing across his eyes. That once beautiful face now bloodied and broken from the airbag. Her snowy arms painted red with parts charred from sliding over the pavement at high speed. He could see the chunks of glass falling off her dislocated shoulders and down the damp tendrils of her long brown hair.

"I killed her," Eren sputtered, choking on his words. "Oh my God, she's dead and it's because of me. It's my fault. I killed her."

"No," Jean said taking a firm hold of his shoulders; tears threatening to fall at any moment. "Eren, that accident wasn't your fault. You didn't kill Carla."

"It was, Jean." Eren sobbed, his breathing becoming shorter with every passing second. "I killed her and it's all my fault. If I hadn't asked her to look out the window she wouldn't have hit the car. I killed her, Jean. I killed her and now I killed Levi. Fuck, I killed him. It's all my fault."

As Eren's lungs heave, the air in them seized and his hyperventilating intensified. Frightened and wrecked for words, Jean sat there trying to think of what he should do. He had seen Eren break down before but it had never been this bad. This was something else. This was what it looked like when the weight of the entire world came crashing down. This was what years of stress, pent up anger and regret, and swallowing the pain looked like and Jean couldn't do anything to stop it. He was helpless.

Looking for anyone to come to his aide, Jean watched as Levi knelt down next to him. The side of his head was bleeding and the deep bruises were already forming over his arms and face. But he had gotten up from where he was sitting and walked over to them despite the intense pain he was likely in. Looking at Eren as he continued to spiral out of control, he shifted his gaze to Jean. Unlike the young man next to him, the advisers' expression was calm and steady as if he had been through this before. Nodding once at him, Jean scooted over and let Levi take over.

Gently taking hold of Erens' face, Levi could feel the hot tears rolling down from his eyes and into the palms of his hand. "Eren, you have to listen to me. You're safe and so am I. Nobody's dead, 'kay kid?"

Jerking away in an attempt to free himself from Levi, the young man growled. "No! No, they're dead. I killed them. I killed them and they're not coming back. It's my fault."

"I'm not dead Eren," he said firmly.

"Yes you are!" Eren yelled still wrestling with the hands holding him in place. "I watched you die! You're dead!"

"Really?!" Levi shouted causing Jean to jump. "You killed me?!"

"I killed you!"

"What?!"

"I fucking killed you! You're dead!"

"Really?! And what are you going to do about it?! Huh?!"

In a burst of battling emotion, Eren grabbed onto Levi's forearms and dug his nails in as the older man kept goading him on. Jean wanted to stop him but in the blink of an eye, Eren suddenly opened his eyes for the first time since Levi had taken over and screamed at the top of his lungs. Matching the energy, Levi stared into Eren's blazing eyes and screamed back as if to encourage him to release everything until nothing was left. They stayed that way for a minute until the younger man ran out of breath.

Coughing on the first deep breaths he had taken since the whole incident happened, Eren collapsed into a shivering crying wreck. He still was nowhere near being okay and wouldn't be for a while. But he was stable and he was safe from both the physical harm and his own hell that he had been grappling with. Wrapping his arms tightly around the photographers' frame, Levi rested his chin on the top of Erens' head with one hand in his soft damp hair and the other planted firmly at the middle of his back. Even when the medics arrived on the scene and the rain had calmed to a drizzle, they waited for the man to calm down the kid that was shaking and sobbing in his arms.

When Eren had come down enough that the violent tremors coursing through him had lessened to faint trembling, Levi eased up on his vice grip. They separated just enough for there to be breathing room and some space to shift around. Feeling the warmth of skin on his cheeks, the young man was suddenly aware on the other mans' presence. The heat of his breath tickling his nose and flushed face. The intoxicating scent of sandalwood and cedar that mingled with the crisp air. That pulse that Eren could feel rushing under the skin of those hands that held him close; as if he were precious; as if he were adored. The thumb that swept away a stray tear that Levi somehow caught and was able to distinguish from the other droplets.

Looking up, Eren struggled to speak when he saw those stormy gray eyes reflecting back the same heart-wrenching tenderness his hands had shown. "L-Levi?"

"Welcome back kid," he smiled as he searched those beautiful, soul crushing green eyes.

"You're alive? I didn't kill you?"

Levi felt his heart twist at the sound of Eren's weakened voice. "Yeah," he breathed. "Yeah, I'm alive. I'm okay."

"Your head's bleeding," Eren lifted a trembling hand to touch the wound then retracted it when the other man inhaled sharply through his teeth. "Oh my God, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to--"

Before he could continue, Levi placed his hands on either side of the boys' head; tangling his finger ever so lightly in his hair. "Eren," he said with a voice as smooth as silk but rich like wine. "I'm fine. It's nothing to worry over, okay? I'll be fine."

"Really?" he asked, his eyes almost pleading.

That's when Levi felt it--the last thread of reason he had snap. How did this happen? How did he blindly fall for his own student? Steeling his breaths, the man forced himself to look into those eyes that, if he weren't lying to himself, he knew he adored. That perfect green with a ring of gold like the sun bursting at the center. What he would do to make that trembling man his; to capture Eren's beauty in that moment and make it last forever.

"Really," Levi smirked. "There's already paramedics waiting to take a look at us. They're just waiting on my say."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really." Levi chuckled when he saw the relief wash over Eren's face. "So, are you alright to move? Can you stand?"

"Yeah, I think I'm alright."

"Okay. I'm going to start moving so if feel your legs give or something, let me know and I'll call them over."

Once they had found their footing, the two men slowly walked across the street to the medics who were waiting for them with their supplies at the ready. As one team assessed Eren, the second worked on treating Levi's superficial wounds and a third group mended the minor bumps and bruises the driver of the sedan had procured. After the police had taken everyone's testimony and had the car towed, it was time for the medics to vacate the premises. Much to his chagrin and Farlan's insistence, Levi was taken to the hospital for a more thorough examination. They needed to run an MRI and CT scan to make sure there weren't any small fractures or internal bleeding that may have been missed. Eren was cleared to leave with just some small scrapes to his hands and wrists.

As the medics loaded Levi into the back of the ambulance, he looked to Eren and mouth the words, 'It's okay.' Though he was still reeling internally from this whole mess, the young man took solace in the fact that Levi seemed to be in good health and only a minor bit of pain. He hated watching them strap an oxygen mask to his face as they shut the doors to the back and drive off. He hated knowing that he lashed out at Jean which was why the medics had wrapped his forearms with gauze after spraying an antibacterial treatment over the small knicks and cuts that now dotted his skin. Eren hated that he couldn't say a word the entire ride back but was still treated so kindly by his friend; the person he had pushed away now the one on whoms shoulder he rested.

\---------------------------------------

After talking to Keith and giving him the run-down of everything that had happened, Jean and Eren were dismissed for the day. As they walked to the door feeling like they had been through an emotional meat grinder, Marco and Ymir came in through the main entrance. Taking a moment to register what he was seeing, the brunette took a few measured steps forward; his eyes wide and fearful and his mouth struggling to form words. Granting himself only a moment of respite, Jean pulled Marco to the side and gathered him into a deep long kiss.

Eren looked on from where he stood and smiled, feeling both happy for them and yet dejected. They were so sweet together, it was physically revolting at times. And for all his teasing, he was genuinely grateful that they were a part of each other's lives. Jean had suffered enough neglect and rejection from his mother and emotional abuse from his previous relationships. It was about time that someone good treated him the way he deserved to be treated and cherished him because he was worth holding on to. But Eren wished that he could find something like that; find someone that set him apart from the rest and told him he mattered.

Fighting back the tears he felt welling at the back of his throat, Eren waited for Jean to part from Marco. Nodding his goodbye to the Bott's, the young man and his friend were taken back to the hotel by one of the campus janitors who was certified to operate the golf carts. Once they had been dropped off at the steps of the Bancroft, the two men headed toward the doors. They hadn't spoken to each other this whole time and it was only when the elevator doors closed that Eren broke the silence.

"Grisha has cancer," Eren murmured with his eyes trained on the closed metal doors.

"What?" Jean said with an expression that were as if he'd been slapped. "When did you hear about this? Do you know what kind it is?"

"He called about a month ago to check in on me and I noticed he didn't sound right so I asked. He didn't want to tell me at first because he thought it'd distract me from my studies," Eren paused biting his lip before sighing heavily. "I guess he was right. It's stage two colon cancer so it's still operable. But, if he dies, I'll be alone. He's the only family I have left Jean."

The lift dinged and the doors opened letting the warm glow of the hallway lights fill the space. Exiting onto the second floor, Jean walked Eren to his door. He was at a complete loss for words. Never, in a thousand years, would he have guessed that the force driving the nightmares and Eren's declining mood was his fathers' cancer diagnosis. In his mind, Grisha was a tank of a human that was impervious to all illnesses and ailments. He had never seen the man come down with so much as a cough or a cold. So how was it possible for the same man to be diagnosed with colon cancer? Someone up there was really hitting Eren where it hurt and they were doing it to get him to lie down. 

"I can stay if you want," Jean offered the other man unlocked his bedroom door. "We don't have to talk but I'd be there if you need someone."

"No, I think I need to be alone for awhile. It's too raw right now."

"Right. Well, uh, text...or call, either one is fine. But if you need anything, even if it's someone to sit and stare into space with or scream out the window with, let me know, okay?"

Nodding, Eren smiled with a small sniffle. "Yeah. I'll let you know."

"'Kay. I'm trusting you Eren."

"It's alright Jean. Go unwind and have mind-blowing sex with your boyfriend."

"We haven't had sex yet," Jean called over his shoulder as he headed to the elevator.

"There's no way I'm buying that after last night and this morning," he chuckled weakly. "Later Jean."

"Yeah. Remember to call me, nerd," Jean said as the doors closed.

\-------------------------------------------

It didn't take long before the days' events had hit Eren with full force. After a long soak in the bath, he called Grisha to make sure he was taking his medication, cleaned off his gear--shivering when a stray piece of broken glass fell from the top of his bag, and cleared the pockets of his cargo vest before putting it away. The sun had begun to set over the college campus by the time he had finished putting his camera case back in order. 

Opening the window, Eren felt the cool air rush over his burning skin. The storm clouds that had bogged down the area had moved out about an hour ago giving way to stripes of candy pink, honeyed peach, and deep violet with the moon beginning its arch through the sky. It was strange to think that he had seen the same sunset hundreds of times yet that night, somehow, it looked entirely different. When he was a child, Carla used to read Eren the bedtime story about how the sun loved the moon so much that he gave her a blanket of deep blue silk beaded with diamonds to keep her warm when he was gone. But to him, it always looked as though the sun were trying to swallow the moon and vice versa.

"I thought you'd be up," called a voice from the bedroom door.

Turning on his heels, Eren's eyes went wide when he saw Levi leaning against the wall leading into the room.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in the hospital."

"I told you I was fine. It's not the first time I've been hit by a car while out on the job."

"That's," Eren stuttered still in shock. "I don't even want to know. What I do want to know is who the irresponsible ass was that allowed you to leave the care unit. You have a head injury Levi, you should be under observation."

"Well I obviously don't because they let me go."

Dropping to the bed, the young man stared up at his guest gobsmacked and bewildered. He had to be hallucinating because there was no way this was real. But Levi looked real and his voice sounded the same as usual; smooth and rich but comforting like the morning right before sunrise. And he smelled the same as he usually did. Eren caught the hints of sandalwood and cedar wafting through the air as a gentle evening breeze billowed through the room. Moreover, those were his eyes--the glittering silver that the young man couldn't replicate even in his dreams.

This was real. Levi was there; beaten up and bandaged but still stunning and still painfully handsome. Eren felt his heart throb as the man came closer. A look of concern danced beneath that finely crafted facade of his--threatening to beat through the cracks and expose every thought Levi had been milling over for the duration of his stay in the hospital. 

Stopping less than a foot away, the older man crouched down so that he was looking up at Eren. Gazing at him through narrowed slits, Levi eyed the young man up and down like he were assessing him for a physical. Shifting uncomfortably under the weight of his attention, the brunette tried to speak but could not find the words. They were somewhere lodged in the back of his throat with the ball of nerves that was screaming at him to capture Levi's perfect lips and never let go.

"Eren," Levi said breaking the spell of his presence with that of his voice. "I'm going to ask you a question and I need you to be honest. Don't think about your answer before you say it, just let it go. Can you do that for me?"

Something about his tone was different from the millions of other times they had spoken; but still, he nodded. "Yes."

Looking into Eren's eyes, he waited until he saw what he was searching for flicker in the depths. "I want you to tell me what you need."

"What?"

"No questioning it. Just tell me, right now, what do you need?"

That's when Eren saw it; the spark flickering in those eyes of darkened molten silver. Was he daring him to say that Eren wanted him? That he wanted him more than he had ever wanted anything or anyone. But what did he have to gain from leading on one of his students? It didn't make sense. Nothing did that day or for the past month if Eren was being honest with himself. Yet he couldn't help himself. He had wanted to say it for so long and this was likely the only chance he'd have. So Eren said a final prayer and hoped for the best.

"Eren?" Levi said softly.

"You," Eren choked, feeling his heart pound so hard it almost made him ill.

"What?"

"I said 'you.' I need you...Levi," he said as he met Levi's gaze.

The seconds passed between them before a smile finally stretched across Levi's features, turning the corners of his lips up bringing hidden dimples to his alabaster cheeks. Eren would have died in that moment if not for the hand that brushed over the smooth skin of his tanned neck. He felt a thumb soothe the trembling he didn't even know he had started as it caressed small circles over the joint jaw. Slowly, it arched from the bottom of his lip, along the soft flawless skin of Eren's cheek, up to the skin behind his right ear, and back down to the starting point. 

Caving into temptation, the young man nuzzled into that warm hand while he prayed for this dream to last just a moment longer. Just one more second was all he needed then he could let go. Eren just wanted to know, even if for a moment, what it felt like to love someone and have them want you back. He was human too, after all. Bringing his hands up to hold onto the one cradling his face, Eren sighed softly feeling his chest swell for this figment of his imagination.

"I wish you were real," he whispered more to himself.

That was all it took to break Levi's heart. Unable to restrain himself anymore, he leaned forward placing his other hand on the other side of Eren's face and captured those trembling lips in his. He could taste the salt from the tears the young man was failing to hold back. He could see the doubt in those eyes and he wanted nothing more than to wash it away. When Eren's breath hitched and his mouth slacked, Levi deepened the kiss. It was criminal how right everything felt in that moment. But he had waited long enough--both of them had--and he could care less about the rules. 

Parting only for air, Levi returned to place a few more chaste yet passionate kisses on Eren's lips. He reveled in the way the young man seemed to melt into him once he had realized that this was no dream. It was intoxicating, the surge of pride and adoration he felt when Eren wrapped his arms around Levi's neck. The feeling of his long slender fingers tangling themselves in his black hair and the heat Eren's tongue sliding over his had him over the moon. How had he gone this long without him? Or was this all part of some divine cosmic plan? Whatever it was, Levi refused to let go of that light now.

"Holy shit," Eren breathed, parting just enough so that he could look at the man in front of him. "You are real. This isn't just in my head."

Pressing their foreheads together Levi closed his eyes for a moment as he took in Eren's rich summer smell. "I'm right here; I promise."

"What about your job?"

Before Eren could pull away, Levi steady him right where he was. "I'll figure it out. There's nothing in my contract that says I cannot date a student." Opening his eyes, his cool silver gaze was met with dazzling emerald and gold. Stealing another long sickly sweet kiss, he parted only a bit. "I can't let you go. Not now that I've figured out that you were what I had been missing."

Laughing through the tears that began to roll over his cheeks. "And when did you figure that out? This morning?"

"No," Levi mused as he thumbed the tears away from his face. "It was probably a few weeks ago when we visited the botanical gardens. It just took me a while to figure it out. So," he paused tilting his head so that they were looking at each other, eye to eye. "Will you have me?"

"Is that even a question?" Eren laughed again. Pulling Levi close, he kissed him long then kissed his cheek, his jaw, all the way up to his ear. "I would have you even if you were broke and homeless."

Collecting the young man in a warm embrace, Levi stroked the soft curls at the back of Eren's neck. "Thank you Eren," he kissed his cheek then pulled him closer. "Thank you for being so honest."

Nuzzling into Levi, Eren kissed his neck and smiled softly as he closed his eyes. "Thank you for saving me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As mentioned in the previous chapter, Levi was the Editor in Chief of the Daily Californian when he was an undergrad at Berkeley with Farlan as his managing editor and Isabel as his photo editor. Because they were constantly in the newsroom, the three of them came up with a playlist to keep them awake and on track. This is their collective list of music so it has a bit of each of them in it. Some songs from Queen and Flight of the Conchords would be sing-a-long's for them ("Bowie" by FOTC was a favorite of the two men who would sing to Isabel). Newsrooms do strange things to a person after 48 hours of straight work.
> 
>  
> 
> \--Dead Tired & Wired---
> 
> -"Roses" by Outkast  
> -"The Way You Move" by Outkast feat. Sleepy Brown  
> -"Hey Ya!" by Outkast  
> -"Bowie" by Flight of the Conchords  
> -"Carol Brown" by Flight of the Conchords  
> -"I Told You I Was Freaky" by Flight of the Conchords  
> -"Inner City Pressure" by Flight of the Conchords  
> -"Hurt Feelings" by Flight of the Conchords  
> -"Too Many Dicks (On The Dance Floor)" by Flight of the Conchords  
> -"Fashion Is Danger" by Flight of the Conchords  
> -"The Hardest Button To Button" by The White Stripes  
> -"Seven Nation Army" by The White Stripes  
> -"We're Going To Be Friends" by The White Stripes  
> -"Blue Orchid" by The White Stripes  
> -"Fell In Love With A Girl" by The White Stripes  
> -"Leave Me Alone" by Michael Jackson  
> -"Scream" by Michael Jackson  
> -"The Way You Make Me Feel" by Michael Jackson  
> -"Stranger In Moscow" by Michael Jackson  
> -"Beat It" by Michael Jackson  
> -"Bad" by Michael Jackson  
> -"You Shook Me All Night Long" by AC/DC  
> -Back In Black" by AC/DC  
> -"Thunderstruck" by AC/DC  
> -"So What'cha Want" by The Beastie Boys  
> -"Sabotage" by The Beastie Boys  
> -"Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" by The Beatles  
> -"With A Little Help From My Friends" by The Beatles  
> -"Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds" by The Beatles  
> -"Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (Reprise)" by The Beatles  
> -"Golden Years" by David Bowie  
> -"Space Oddity" by David Bowie  
> -"Cat People (Putting Out Fire)" by David Bowie  
> -"Under Pressure" by David Bowie & Queen  
> -"Fat Bottom Girls" by Queen  
> -"Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen  
> -"We Will Rock You" by Queen  
> -"We Are The Champions" by Queen  
> -"Somebody To Love" by Queen  
> -"Killer Queen" by Queen  
> -"3's and 7's" by Queens of the Stone Age  
> -"Go With The Flow" by Queen's of the Stone Age  
> -"Subterranean Homesick Alien" by Radiohead  
> -"Creep" by Radiohead  
> -"The Bends" by Radiohead  
> -"Airbag" by Radiohead  
> -"Iron Lung" by Radiohead  
> -"No Surprises" by Radiohead  
> -"15 Step" by Radiohead  
> -"High and Dry" by Radiohead  
> -"The National Anthem" by Radiohead  
> -"Optimistic" by Radiohead  
> -"How To Disappear Completely" by Radiohead  
> -"Kid A" by Radiohead  
> -"Dosed" by Red Hot Chili Peppers  
> -"Venice Queen" by Red Hot Chili Peppers  
> -"Minor Thing" by Red Hot Chili Peppers  
> -"The Zephyr Song" by Red Hot Chili Peppers  
> -"By The Way" by Red Hot Chili Peppers  
> -"Caress Me Down" by Sublime  
> -"Wrong Way" by Sublime  
> -"What I Got" by Sublime  
> -"Promiscuous" by Nelly Furtado  
> -"Maneater" by Nelly Furtado  
> -"Rockstar" by Nickleback  
> -"How You Remind Me" by Nickleback  
> -"Lithium" by Nirvana  
> -"Nevermind" by Nirvana  
> -"Smells Like Teen Spirit" by Nirvana  
> -"In Bloom" by Nirvana  
> -"Bathwater" by No Doubt  
> -"Ex-Girlfriend" by No Doubt  
> -"Magic's In The Makeup" by No Doubt  
> -"Artificial Sweetener" by No Doubt  
> -"Hella Good" by No Doubt  
> -"Making Out" by No Doubt  
> -"Underneath It All" by No Doubt feat. Lady Saw  
> -"Rock Steady" by No Doubt
> 
> Now, try to guess who contributed what to the playlist. ;)


	8. Breathing Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren comes clean to Levi, Marco confronts the skeletons in his closet, and Jean gets what he has been searching for....
> 
>  
> 
> \-----NOTICE!: This chapter will be jumping between Levi/Eren and Marco/Jean so please be aware of that while reading.
> 
> \-----WARNING!: There will be mention/referencing of pregnancy and abortions.

The sun crept in through the milky linen curtains that fluttered open with the gentle morning breeze. Slowly, the darkness was chased away from the pastel blue walls of Eren's bedroom--replaced by the warm light of the new day. There was certain slant to the sparkling rays of translucent gold that made it look as if they carried some strange magic in them; a spell that brought peace and serenity to all whom they touched. The songs of various birds floated into the space, gently rousing the rooms' occupants from their slumber.

Still heavy with sleep, Eren's bright emerald eyes flickered open and close slowly--his lashes dusting his cheeks as they struggled to stay open. It had been months since the young man had slept so soundly and even longer since he had dreamt of something other than his mother's death and father's illness. For a long moment, he laid there curled on his side snuggled up against a warmth that was not his own. He felt it wrap around him--trailing down his back before securing itself on his hipbone--while his head bobbed up then down with what had to be the deep steady breaths of another.

As the young man came to his senses, he could feel the strong beating of someone else's heart beneath his fingertips. Smoothing his hand over the expanse of the strangers' chest, Eren could feel that the person next to him was male, toned, and injured because there were small patches of gauze pushing at the fabric of their shirt. Turning his head upward, his breathing faltered when he saw Levi sleeping next to him.

He had imagined what the man would look like as he slept countless times but the real thing was far more breathtaking than Eren could have fathomed. Unmoving, it were as if Levi were carved from a single block of alabaster stone. His fair flawless skin glowed in the warm morning sun creating a halo of light above him. In stark contrast to the softness of his skin was the intense black of his silken hair. Splayed out across the pillow, it framed his angular face in a tousled mess.

While Levi's strong lungs took in another long breath, Eren watched it pass back out through his lips. Those lips that were just a shade or two pinker than his skin and kissed him with such sweetness the night before were now still and relaxed. Moving the hand that had been resting on the older mans' chest up to his face, Eren traced the bottom curve of Levi's mouth--ghosting the edges with his fingertips until they reached the gently upturned corner where the upper and lower lips met. 'How could someone be this beautiful?' he wondered. Not only was the man brilliant and caring, but he was a living breathing work of art and Eren could feel it as his heart broke just a little from looking at him.

Unable to stop himself, the young man tilted his head enough so that he could place a single adoring kiss on that perfectly straight jawline. When Levi groaned a little from the touch, Eren kissed him again below his ear then farther down on his neck. He could hear the other mans' breathing change from resting to active as he moved in place. Chest heaving and stretching, Levi cracked his neck then shifted his spine, feeling the bones pop one by one as the rolling motion relieved the pressure that had built up overnight.

Smiling when he felt the long, slim frame lying next to him, Levi tightened his grip and pulled the body closer. Kissing the top of Eren's head, he opened his eyes that were fighting to clear away the lingering drowsiness. When they caught Eren's glittering green gaze, his smile grew wider--bringing those elusive dimples to his cheeks as his lips pulled back to revel his pearl white teeth.

"Hey," Levi said; his voice rough from sleep.

"H-Hey," Eren breathed; still taken aback by how handsome the other man was.

"You sleep alright?"

Nodding, Eren let his fingers smooth over the hard lines of Levi's jaw and chin before tracing a path to his collarbone. "I can't believe you're actually here. It's like, if I blink you'll disappear or something."

"You know it hurts when you say that," Levi sighed, kissing the top of Eren's head. 

Resting his chin on top of the young mans' crown, Levi gripped him tighter--giving his hip a tender squeeze as if to say 'I'm real. This is real.' It was shocking how thin Eren had gotten over the last couple of months. He wasn't skin and bones but he wasn't eating right either and it showed. When Eren had first started at the Nexus years ago, the young man was athletic with lean muscles under that flawless honey gold skin. Now, though he was still fit, there was a sharpness to him that wasn't there before and it broke Levi's heart. 

The guilt knotted up in the pit of his stomach because Levi should have noticed it sooner. He should have seen how out of sorts Eren had been since the start of the spring semester. He should have said something or forced Eren to take a break from pressing photo's or, at the very least, brought him something to eat. But he didn't see it until a week ago. Even then, Levi hadn't said anything and just let the boy decline until he hit his limit. Yet still, the young man looked upon him as if he were heaven sent. Why? The answer eluded him because if he were half the man Eren thought him to be, he would have done a better job as his professor and friend and wouldn't have allowed the boy to reach this point of emotional need.

Looking at the alarm clock on the nightstand, Eren shot up. "Shit, the feature photo competition starts is fifteen minutes!"

"It's fine, they removed your name from the list after yesterday's incident," Levi said pulling Eren back down so that his head was over his heart. "We were both given the day off to recuperate so you don't need to go anywhere."

"O-Oh," Eren murmured blushing like mad against Levi's chest. Shyly, he stretched his arm across the older mans' body so that his hand hooked around the others' ribs; squeezing gently. "Thank you Levi."

"Don't thank me. I didn't do shit."

"No, not for that. For staying with me and for everything you've done. No one," Eren choked suddenly as he felt tears pushing at the edges of his eyes. "No one has ever done something like this for me."

"There was no way I'd leave you after something like that," Levi spoke as he rolled onto his side while drawing the other man closer to him. He nuzzled fondly into the soft mess of Eren's hair that smelled like summer--bright and alive. To think, he could have lost him. "I don't think I've ever been more afraid in my life than I was in that moment. I didn't even think about what would happen afterwards. I just wanted to make sure you were safe."

"Really?" Eren breathed as his fingers gripped at the fabric of Levi's shirt.

"Yeah," Levi said. "It was strange because, before I could think, my legs were already moving. I just kept thinking 'I have to protect him.' Even when the car hit, I was terrified that I hadn't pushed you far enough out of the way."

Shuddering at the memory of Levi's vulnerable frame tumbling over the top of the silver sedan, the young man pulled tighter at the cloth in his hands. The defiant tears that stung at the back of his eyes finally broke through and were starting their journey down the hot flesh of his cheeks. He could still see the incident play out before him. He could hear Levi calling to him and feel those forceful hands shove him to the side. The screeching of tires, the crunching of glass as it cracked and shattered, and the smell of burnt rubber and wet asphalt was still potent in his mind.

Burying his face in Levi's chest, Eren moved his arms so that they were hugging the man as firmly as he could manage. He was already shaking with every breath and the tears had begun to stain his companions shirt. But Eren didn't care. He didn't care if his face was red and wet from crying or if his eyes stung. He didn't care if he were acting like a child that had fallen off of their bike and was sobbing over a scraped knee. Eren didn't care because Levi was alive and lying right next to him. He had risked his life for the young man and had chanced making his injuries worse when he talked the boy down from his emotional collapse. This man, who could have anyone he wanted, set him apart from everyone else and chose Eren.

Feeling Levi's strong arms tighten around him like an anchor to reality, Eren smushed his face against him so that there wasn't even a fraction of an inch of space between them. Their legs tangled together; hooking loosely at the ankles and knees while their thighs pressed into one another. It was the single most intimate moment of Eren's life. Everything that he had experienced up until that point--sex, kissing, holding hands, lying naked with another person. Nothing could compare to this. All his walls had dropped and there was nothing left but the longing to love and be loved.

Cradling the back of Eren's head in his right hand while his left pressed soothingly into the small of the young mans' back, Levi let him cry. It had probably been years since he last had the chance to. The kid was so busy working, going to school full time, interning, and managing his responsibilities as a photo editor that he had forgotten to take his mental health into consideration. Levi knew he wasn't sleeping or eating; hell, the kid was practically being held together with toothpicks and dental floss at this point. 

So, if Eren wanted to cry until he was hoarse, Levi would let him. He would hold him close and be the person that he can fall apart in front of. And when Eren had sobbed himself to pieces, he would be there to put him back together again, every time, until the boy no longer had any reasons to cry.

The young mans' back heaved against the firm hold of Levi's arms--shuddering softly as the tears lessened. When the cries had calmed the older man took his hand and cupped Eren's jaw; his thumb smoothing over his burning cheek to wipe away the tears streaking over the skin. The kid was so beautiful. Even in his anguish, he was breathtaking. 

Pulling Eren into a long deep kiss, he smiled weakly at how familiar the warmth of his mouth was and how sweet he tasted. The pain that had pierced through him like a lance slowly faded into a throbbing ache in his ribs. It hurt but God, he loved it. The feeling of Eren's heart pounding in his chest against Levi's rapid pulse was exhilarating. And the soft moans and whimpers he made when the older man teased his mouth open so that their tongues could finally meet numbed him to the world around them. Everything about Eren acted like a drug--subduing Levi while encouraging his urge to take more. He didn't want to let go even though his lungs screamed for air. If he could, Levi would drown in Eren's kiss. 

But they would have time for that later. This wasn't the last embrace they would share so, with great reluctance, he parted from Eren. Holding his head in his hands, Levi watched as the young mans' lips pressed together as he steadied his breathing. When Eren opened his eyes, they were met by warm pools of molten silver. Lifting his hands to cradle Levi's jaw on either side, the boy smiled with an airy laugh.

"You're too good at that," Eren beamed, moving one hand to push the hair away from Levi's eyes.

"You aren't so bad yourself," Levi smirked as he kissed Eren's forehead, nose, then lips. 

Moving away just enough so that he could rest his cheek against the boys', Levi took a deep breath while readying himself to ask the question that had been eating him all night. They couldn't move forward until they addressed what had happened yesterday afternoon. It was more than the shock of seeing Levi being hit by a car. Eren had gone into a state hysteria. Something was clawing at the surface and the kid was trying his best to keep the monster at bay--killing himself in the process of doing so. He had to get him to understand that it was okay to let go; to trust someone with a piece of himself. So, risking the happiness of that moment for the potential of a brighter future together, Levi parted from Eren just enough so that he could look into his lovely eyes.

"Eren," Levi spoke while hiding the fear he felt. "What happened yesterday? This is more than me or you being stressed out from school. Please," he said softly when the man began to look away as tears formed in his eyes once more. "You can't do this on your own. You're strong; I know you are. But this is too much for you to handle alone. Eren," Levi breathed using the knuckles of his balled hand to tilt the boys' head up. "You have to let someone in."

He waited for Eren to look at him. Levi could see the pain, the chaos, and the uncertainty warring inside him. He could feel the energy building within those bones that were already aching for release; to be free from the burden they were under yet somehow afraid to let go of. It had been a long time since Eren had trusted someone with a part of himself. The last time he had, it had almost ruined him. But Levi was different; Eren knew he was. And despite the knee jerk urge to shut him out, an overwhelming chorus commanded him to set aside his pride and let his guard down. 'One more time,' he thought while staring into those eyes of silver light that he adored so much. 'I'll trust this feeling one more time.'

Swallowing down his anxiety, Eren let his eyes drop to Levi's throat. "My father has stage two colon cancer."

"What?" Levi breathed.

"I found out about a month ago. Apparently he had known about it for a while but didn't tell me until I forced it out of him."

"Eren, why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Who would I tell?" Eren asked innocently in a voice that parroted the question with genuine curiosity. Looking up, Eren searched Levi's expression for an answer. "There's nobody except me. My mom's dead and my friends have their own problems to worry about. I'm on my own."

"No Eren," Levi shook his head. "You've got me. I don't know who put you through what kind of hell, but I won't do that to you. I promise. But you have to trust me and let me know when you're hurting. I hate seeing you like this so please, let me in for God's sake and stop hurting yourself," he smiled as Eren began to tear up. "I won't let you fall apart, 'kay?"

"But I already am falling apart," Eren laughed pitifully.

"Then I'll put you back together," he breathed, voicing the words he had been thinking not too long ago. How hard had he fallen for this kid? Even he was surprised at the honesty and power of his words. "I promise, I'll be there. I won't let you fall."

Heaving in heavy breaths, Eren held onto Levi's hands that were cupping either side of his face. Again, he felt the surge of emotion wash over him. Every word the man in front of him spoke pulled him further away from his comfort zone and encouraged him to let his defenses go. He had become so adapted to feeling numb that actually experiencing love, joy, fear, and sorrow was a sensory overload. One moment he wanted to melt in Levi's arms and die kissing him; the next, he wanted to lock himself in the bathroom and cry himself back into desensitization. But he had already opened himself up to Levi and told himself that he was going to try one more time to let someone in. That he was going to take a risk and trust somebody with his heart.

Pulling Levi in for a long deep kiss, Eren tried to tell the man everything his mind wouldn't let him say. He could feel the words clawing at his throat, itching to be set free after four years of living in captivity. Pressing into him, his mouth working against the others' in a desperate attempt to pass on his secrets, Eren could taste his own tears mixing with the sweet mind-numbing taste of Levi's lips and tongue as it slid over his. He adored this man who would risk his life for him. He had for sometime and now the words were moments from making themselves known.

"Levi," Eren cried, panting hot breaths against the other mans' lips. "Levi I...." he froze, gripping at his shirt. Looking into those questioning silver eyes, Eren felt himself choke on the words. "I..." he stammered before ducking his head down; the top of his forehead pressing against Levi's chin. "Thank you."

"Was that really what you wanted to say?"

"No," the young man said through gritted teeth. Nuzzling into the crook of Levi's neck, he fought with the combatants in his mind. "It's not but I can't say it. I'm afraid of what will happen if I do. I don't--"

"You don't want to scare me off," Levi finished. Breathing deeply, he ran a hand through Eren's hair. "You don't need to worry, kid. I don't scare easy and I already promised you that I wouldn't run away so tell me what you're thinking."

Giving in because he wanted so badly to believe in this feeling, Eren was quiet for a long moment while he said farewell to his last thread of defiance. "I love you," he said, his voice almost a whisper. "I always have and it hurts. I've been in love with you for so long that I was terrified of what would happen if you found out. Even now, I'm afraid I'll break apart from it."

The moment Eren had said those three words, Levi felt his heart thud painfully against his ribs. That honest confession held a power in it that words failed to describe. Nothing in the way he had said it hinted at the potential of it being withdrawn. Eren was in love with Levi; he was sure of it. And Levi, despite how new all of this was, knew he felt the same way for the young man. But he didn't want to rush himself and say it before he was, without any shadow of a doubt, certain that he was crazy wholeheartedly in love with Eren.

Smoothing the hair away from Eren's face, Levi kissed the soft skin between his brows before pressing their foreheads together. "I won't break you because I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you."

"What?" Eren lifted his gaze, genuinely shocked by the words he had just heard. "No way. There's no way..."

Chuckling, Levi placed a chaste kiss to the brunette's lips. "We really have to work on that sense of self-worth."

"But why would you---"

"I don't know. Why do you love me?"

"That's different," Eren said still in a state of shock but not enough so to stop him from blushing. "You have a lot more going for you."

"Yeah, yeah," Levi dismissed the comment as he pulled Eren closer. Breathing in the boys' pleasant smell, he relaxed and allowed his eyes to close. "My feelings may not be caught up with yours but give me a little time. I don't want to let you down so I want to say it without any doubt, 'kay?"

Nodding against the firm press of Levi's chest, Eren smiled at the sound of the mans' racing heart. 'So he really does like me,' Eren mused. "'Kay," he sighed as he maneuvered an arm around the older mans' frame so that he could toy with the soft hair of his undercut. "I can wait. Just, please, don't hurt me."

"I won't. But you can't hurt me either. I'm trusting you Eren."

Shaking his head, the brunette smiled before bringing them together for a long kiss then, with a vulnerability to his voice, whispered, "I love you Levi Ackerman."

\---------------------------------------------------------------

With Eren out of the game, it was up to Jean, Taylor, Sam, and Mohammad, or "Q" as everyone called him, to pick up the slack. Taking command of the position as acting-photo editor, Jean filled in at the roundtable discussions, competed in the on-spot sections that his friend had been entered in and rally the team when things started getting tough. The competitions on day three were almost entirely visual media so the four of them were running from one side of the campus to the other.

Working alongside together for the redo of the sports feature photography competition, Mohammad and Jean dominated the field while dodging football players as they ran, tumbled, and were shoved out of bounds. Sam had managed to get the upper hand on her group during the Arts & Entertainment meet. The twenty-six students were covering a ballet at the Zellerbach Hall and the petite Latina used her quiet disposition to sneak around the crowd and snap a picture of the lead dancer as she executed a grand jete. The shot was in-focus and the lighting was perfect.

On the other side of campus, Taylor was covering the People of Berkeley photo competition. She was the best journalist the Nexus had for assignments like that; street photography was her strong suit right behind wild art. Clocking in at 256 pictures, she had enough shots of street dancers, various musicians around campus, and action shots between friends to guarantee her a spot in the top three.

It was exhausting but Jean was starting to finally feel like he belonged in the Nexus group. The rush reminded him of his days on the newspaper at his community college back in New York. And the feeling of relief and excitement when he worked with a fellow photographer from UCSB to get that perfect shot made him smile. As much as he preferred operating alone, he had to admit that being part of a team was fun if the people worked well together. And the four of them together were unbeatable. They had been nailing each competition on the head and getting the best shots; Jean was starting to feel bad for the other schools.

Around 3:45, the four friends had wrapped up the first round of competitions for the afternoon. Jean still had the redo for breaking news and features to shoot for. Mohammad was going to be the secondary entry for the news while Taylor volunteered to take Eren's spot in features. But before they had to break, the group made their way into town to grab something to eat. None of them had eaten since 9:30 that morning and they were all running on fumes. Deciding on the cantina that was five minutes walk from campus, they sat down at a table near the back corner so that they could hear themselves talking over the music and loud chatter that filled the space. 

After ordering, they each took a moment to appreciate the feeling of sitting for more than two minutes. Their feet ached and their stomachs had knotted up from the intensity of the competitions. Now, coming down from it all before they were thrown back into the flames, they could feel the wear and tear it had one their poor bodies.

"So," Mohammad began, his deep smooth voice cracking a bit as he massaged a kink out of his neck. "Are you and Marco really a thing?"

Not even bothering to hide it any more, Jean remained slumped in his chair with his head drawn back and his eyes closed. "Yes," he sighed. "I don't know why it's such a big deal but yeah, him and I are dating."

"Well he's not the kind of guy to really attach himself to someone."

"Really now...?"

"Mmm," Mohammad hummed. "Some shit happened a few years ago when he came back to get his master's and he pretty much said 'fuck it' to dating or getting involved with anyone."

Jean waited as the server came 'round and dropped their drinks off before he spoke. "What do you mean 'some shit happened?' Should I be worried or something?"

"No, just be considerate of him I guess."

"Don't say it like that Mo," Sam prodded at him as if she were his mother telling him he had gone too far. "You make it sound like he's damaged goods."

"Well isn't everyone 'damaged goods?'"

"That sounds like a personal problem," Jean smirked with a small laugh. Taking a long drink from his pint of Guinness, he returned to the topic at hand. "Seriously though, what do you mean by that?"

"If you want to know, you should ask him," Taylor said in her usual sweet manner. That girl was the brightest thing to come out of Nevada and they were lucky to have her in the newsroom. "I'm sure he'd tell you if you asked. He seems to trust you a lot already so why not try?"

"I will but," Jean hesitated. "I want to know at least what I'm walking into here. You guys all seem to know so can't you clue me in? Even a little bit is fine."

Glancing between Mohammad and Taylor, Sam cleared her throat. "His ex wasn't the best person. She took a lot out of him and it kinda destroyed him. It's why Ymir doesn't trust you like she does us and tried to keep you away from him."

"It was that bad?"

"You really don't want to know what he was like after the break up," Taylor said dimly. "He wasn't anything like he is now."

"I guess he must have loved her a lot," Jean murmured feeling a pang of jealousy bubble in his chest.

"Maybe at some point," Mohammad interjected. "But I wouldn't say so near the end. You'll have to ask him yourself if you want to know anymore though."

"But," Sam said suddenly as if she remembered something important. "You may want to wait until after JACCU just in case either of you run into her before we leave."

"Wait, she's here?!" Jean spoke, almost choking on his beer.

Sam nodded. "She's the program director for Berkeley's station now... I think."

"Fucking Christ," he sighed slumping into his chair. Running both hands over his face, he groaned aloud feeling the anxiety spike in his gut. "If she's the program director then of course they're going to see each other. God damn it..."

"I said 'I think.' I can't remember if she's still around or if she was part of the group that graduated last year. She's a year older than him so it's hard to remember."

"What's her name?"

Glancing to Mohammad, Sam furrowed her brows. "Wasn't it Kat something?"

"Kate Torres," Mohammad corrected.

Eyes widening, Jean pulled out his pamphlet that he had been given on orientation day. Unfolding the paper with the schedules for all the competitions, roundtable talks, and workshops, the photographer searched for the familiar name he knew he had seen before. After a moment, he found it at the bottom of the third column. It was a roundtable discussion for station managers led by senior broadcasting major and program director of UCBFM Radio, Kate "Kitty" Torres. 'Station managers,' Jean thought quietly. 'If this were correct, then Marco will be seeing her in ten minutes.'

"Shit," Jean breathed.

Pulling out his phone, the photographer sent out a text, hoping it would reach the recipient sooner rather than later.

JEAN: You're not going to that roundtable discussion at 4:15 are you?

MARCO: Yes. Why? Is everything alright?

JEAN: Yeah, I'm fine but I don't think you should go.

There was a long deafening pause as Jean waited for him to respond. Watching the three dots bob up and down as the person on the other end wrote their reply, he could feel his stomach twisting itself into a knot. Had he gone too far? Surely Marco could look out for himself but from the sound of it, this girl was bad news. His phone buzzed when the message found its way to his inbox. Hesitantly, Jean unlocked the screen.

MARCO: You know about Kitty, don't you.

It wasn't even a question. Fighting the fear and worry, he forced himself to be honest. Marco would know if he lied so there wasn't any point in it.

JEAN: Yes. I don't know much but it's enough to make me worry.

MARCO: I'm not going to cheat on you Jean.

JEAN: I know you won't. That's not what I'm afraid of. I know she fucked you up and hurt you enough to leave a lasting impression. I just don't want you to have to go through the shit of seeing that kind of person again. It happened to me all the time back home so I know how much it hurts. You don't have to see her if you don't want to. You could skip the roundtable discussion if you want. Ymir wouldn't be pissed if she knew your ex was the moderator.

MARCO: Ymir already told me not to go.

JEAN: Then why are you still going?!

MARCO: Because there's something I have to take care of.

JEAN: Seriously?!

MARCO: I have to go Jean. I'll see you later tonight.

Mystified and vexed that Marco would willingly see his ex, Jean didn't have the strength to text him back without losing his cool. The woman had torn his heart out like the high priest from the Temple Of Doom and he was going back?! Somewhere between fuming and heartbroken, Jean slammed his phone down on the table. All three others jumped from the sudden clap of sound. Nobody dared ask what had happened. They had some semblance of what had transpired between them. Putting the obvious into words would only make things worse. For now, they would just let Jean be and wait for the couple to work it out in private.

\-----------------------------------------

Entering the empty conference room, Marco ran his fingers over the smooth surface of the large oval wooden table. Stopping where he was, he stared at his shaking hand. It had been fours years since he had last seen that womans' face. Four years since he heard her voice, smelled her perfume, and felt the softness of her skin when she touched him. Thinking back, he tried to recall it. What did it feel like being with her?

Kate was his first love and his longest relationship. She was the first woman he fallen seriously for and the first person to destroy him so thoroughly that it had nearly taken him over the edge. She was there when he had his first serious surfing accident and was the first face he saw when he woke up in the hospital. She was softly crying in the chair next to his bed but smiled when he reached out and touched her face. 'You idiot,' she laughed through the tears. 'You just don't know when to quit, do you?' 

Marco remembered loving that smile. He remembered how her laugh used to make his heart soar but, now, he couldn't feel anything. It was like watching a silent film and trying to guess at what the actors were trying to convey to the audience. They had known each other for so long that he should be able to remember if he loved her but now her face brought nothing to mind.

"Marco?" he heard her voice call from behind.

Turning around, Marco was captured by those deep brown eyes that he used to love. 

"Hey Kitty," he smiled softly as he leaned back against the table. "How are you?"

Shifting uncomfortably and pushing her black hair behind her ear, she tried to return the smile. "I'm fine. I wasn't expecting to see you here. I thought you had graduated."

"This is my last semester. You?"

"Same. I took two semesters off after you left."

"Ah," Marco nodded. 

They were quiet for a long moment but he had to ask these next questions. It was why he had told Ymir to back off and let him go to the meeting. If he didn't say it now, when would he ever have the chance to? Marco had to get this nagging load off his chest if he was going to commit himself to Jean. He knew that the unresolved frustration and pain from their relationship would poison his future with his current partner and Marco didn't want any of that. He wanted to fall hopelessly for Jean and give him everything without fear. But the only way of doing that was by facing Kitty.

"Marco...?" she said lowly, almost as if to test if he were real or just a figment of her imagination.

Lifting his head, he looked into her eyes, knowing full well that there was nothing left in his heart for her. "You know, I'm sorry that we had to end things the way we did."

"What?"

"We were both young and stupid. Neither of us were ready to be parents but I still snapped."

"Marco," she breathed, struggling to say the truth. "It wasn't yours."

"I know."

She looked up sharply. "What?"

"I knew it wasn't mine but I loved you anyways. But you had already fallen out of love with me and I couldn't handle it." Biting his bottom lip, Marco looked at the ground between them. "Did you ever tell Nic?"

Shaking her head silently, she shifted her weight from one leg to the other. "No. He wasn't ready for a kid and neither was I. I wanted my degree and a baby would've complicated things. Shit, did you really know?"

The transparent closed mouth smile on Marco's face seemed to answer her question. She knew that look. It was the same one he had on his face whenever she came home after sneaking around with Nic. It was the smile that said he saw right through her. Kitty hated that look because it reminded her of everything she had done. It was a look of pity, regret--sympathy, maybe. That smile made her feel like she was a teenager again and had been caught smoking in the bathroom by her dad.

"I'm sorry Marco." Kitty stepped closer. Reaching out, she almost touched his arm but something in his eyes told her that she was the only one hurting. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I shouldn't have slept with Nic while we were still together. I know it's just an excuse but I was lonely. You were working all the time and had class full-time. He was convenient."

"I know that too. I know I drove you to him which is why I'm here." Staring at her with those eyes she had adored and still dreamt of, Marco smirked. "I wanted to apologize because, as much as it hurt me, you were in just as much pain. You had to go to another man for affection because the one you were with couldn't tear himself away from his work long enough to see what was happening. And then you had to hide a pregnancy and an abortion because you didn't want to hurt me. I'll never know what that feels like, Kate. So, I'm sorry for pushing you to do something you never would have done if you were given the option and then I'm sorry for fighting with you over it. You had every right to do what you did and I should have respected you enough to understand that."

"Marco," she choked, giving in to the pain they had been carrying for the past four years.

Falling against him, she cried quietly while taking comfort in the familiar warmth and security of Marco's arms as they wrapped around her. They couldn't stay like that for long but they could allow themselves this brief moment. It was the last time they would see each other for the foreseeable future and their history demanded a proper ending. Hugging her tight, Marco let out a long deep sigh; releasing his anguish, frustration, and unresolved feelings about their relationship. The turmoil and pressure on his heart had finally lifted after four long years.

Pulling away, Kitty wiped away the tears and checked her fingertips to see if her mascara had bled. Chuckling, Marco thumbed a tear away from her cheek, finding a new appreciation for the smile that appeared on her lips. Not only could he move on, but now, she could too.

"I should get going. I wasn't planning on sticking around and I have someone who needs some calming down." Marco said, laughing lightly at the thought of how pissed Jean was going to be when he saw him.

"Well they should be grateful to have you. You're a good man, Marco," Kitty smiled.

"And you're a good woman," he beamed back, gently nudging her chin with his fist. "Congratulations on the wedding by the way."

Glancing down at her engagement ring, she suddenly remembered that she was going to be walking down the aisle in two months. "Oh, yeah. I almost forgot."

"Oh, I'm so telling Nic."

"Don't you dare," she playfully slapped at his arm. Pausing when her hand made contact with his skin for the third time, she bit her lip. "How did you know it was Nic?"

"Because you were never really in love with me." Kissing her on the forehead, Marco smiled, "I hope you guys are happy and that he is a better man than I ever was to you." Walking toward the door, he opened it then turned. "See ya' Kit Kat."

And with that, it was over. They were over.

\------------------------------------------

The sun was just starting to set; turning the clouds overhead a vast array of pinks, oranges, and violets. Watching the glowing orb sink bit by bit in the sky, Jean stared at the last message Marco had sent him. He knew he had no right to be as pissed off as he was. Hell, he didn't even know what had caused Marco and Kitty to break up. But he couldn't stop this feeling. It made him sick to his stomach to think of someone wounding the man that much. Cheating was one thing but, unless it was a 'she slept with my brother/best friend' situation, there was more to the story than it seemed.

Sitting on the steps of the MLK Jr. building, Jean couldn't stop the images of Marco kissing Kitty from flooding his mind. He thought of them holding each other, laughing together, going to sleep together...making love. The last one punched him hard enough in the chest to make him inhale sharply. It was obvious that Marco had been with other people before him; had loved someone else before him. And Jean had been with other men before Marco came into his life. But the defining difference was that Marco was the first one he had fallen in love with.

He didn't know when or how but he guessed that feeling had already been planted in him the moment he first saw Marco. Since then, it had grown. It wasn't until that afternoon that he thought about why it upset him that Marco was talking to Kitty. And it was not until he sat down on those steps and watched the sun set that he understood that it was because he was in love with Marco that he felt this ebbing piercing pain in his chest. He was the only person that caused him this much discomfort and then made him like it. It was messed up and unsettling but oddly comforting. 'So this is what it feels like?' Jean thought to himself.

Sniffling as the wind blew down the way, Jean wiped away the stray tears that had made their way past his defenses. There was no way he'd allow himself to cry right now; if at all. Maybe he would consider it once in the privacy of his own room but out in public? Not a chance in hell. As he rose to his feet--shrugging his camera bag up his shoulder--Jean felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He hesitated when he saw Marco's name appear on screen. After a minute, the call went to voicemail. He was about to put it away when it began to pulsate again. Holding it up, he answered it after clearing his throat.

"Yes?"

"Turn around," Marco commanded from the other end. When Jean spun around and saw the brunette standing less than fifty feet away, the older man smirked. "And you let my call go to voicemail."

"You know I'm pretty pissed off at you right now and it is all your fault."

"I know."

Snickering, Jean shook his head; watching as Marco came closer. "Well do you know that my chest is hurting right now because of you and I haven't been able to calm it down?"

"That part I did not know," Marco responded, now less than twenty feet from the photographer. "Is there anything I can do to fix it?"

"Yeah, you can get over here and kiss me."

Chuckling, Marco looked at Jean who was so close now. "I'm not sure if that will calm your heart, love." 

Stopping in place, he waited for Jean to close the gap. He had pissed Jean off and now he had antagonized him. Marco knew he was being an asshole, but if the photographer could forgive him enough to come over there and take that kiss by force, then he would have no problem going forward with their relationship and handing his heart over to him. So, he stood there silently praying for the man less than fifteen feet away to read his mind and come claim him.

Gazing into Marco's deep eyes, Jean could see something flickering in the depths. A plea; quiet but present. Ending the call, he stormed up to the brunette and hooked his arms around his neck; bringing him down into a powerful all-consuming kiss. Spending no time waiting for his permission, Jean forced his way into Marco's mouth and Marco didn't resist. Instead, he wrapped a strong arm around the shorter mans' waist while the other cradled the back of his head; fingers twisting in the ashen blonde top tresses and thumbing the soft hairs of his undercut.

As the kiss deepened, Jean felt himself straining for air. Even when he was being submissive, Marco was still in control. Just the way his tongue slid over his, teasing his teeth, before he changed the angle of his head and bit his lip before heading back in for the kill had Jean feeling weak in the knees. 

It felt like the brunette had set his body on fire and the photographer was gladly allowing himself to burn. He loved the way his lips felt on his own. He loved the way those hands held him close and would press into him just for reassurance. He loved the taste of his tongue and the dizzying smell of his skin. How warm he was and those dimples that appeared whenever he smiled.... Jean loved Marco and it was so beautiful and painful and perfect.

Parting just enough for air, Marco breathed against Jeans lips wearing a small smile. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Why are you thanking me?"

"Because I needed you to come over here and kiss me."

"Why?"

"Because I love you Jean and I needed you to show me that, even when I'm being an ass, you'd still have me."

"You...you love me? Wait," Jean breathed moving both hands to hold Marco's face. Looking into his eyes, Jean stared back with as much strength as he could manage. "Do you really?"

"Yes," Marco choked, his voice breaking on the single syllable. Wrapping his arms around Jeans' waist, he pressed their foreheads together. "I know it's fast but I've never been more sure about someone and how I feel. I've said it before Jean, you're different."

"Shit..."

"I know, right." Marco smiled enough that the dimples appeared on his cheeks. "So, will you have me?"

"Yes," Jean said without a moments hesitation. "Yes, I'll have you because fuck the rules. I love you Marco Bott. I'm crazy for falling this quickly for you but I don't care anymore."

Kissing Jean hard and deep, Marco felt his heart come alive. Parting only a bit, he tapped Jeans nose with his then kissed it. "I guess we're both out of our collective minds."

"I guess so," Jean beamed while head raked both hands through the brunettes' dark waves. Marveling at the man in his arms, he released a heavy shuddering breath. "Fuck, this is real. We're actually saying this to each other."

"It's wild, huh?" Without warning, Marco kissed Jean, lifted him and spun him once around before breaking the embrace. "It feels good to say it."

"Then say it again."

"I love you."

"Again," Jean smiled.

Kissing Jean, Marco whispered, "I love you Jean Kirstein."

Melting into the older mans' strong arms, the photographer held onto him as if he were their only anchor in reality. Jean knew that wasn't a mistake; that he really was in love and that there was no going back now that they had said it. But he didn't want to run away. He didn't ever want to let go of this strange, wonderful, sarcastic man that both annoyed and bewitched him. This man that had appeared so suddenly in his life and had changed everything he thought he knew about love and the way it was given.

Abruptly parting, Jean took Marco by the hand and began walking them back to the hotel. He could feel his face blush furiously; undoubtedly Marco knew what he was up to. But he had waited for this chance; to fall for someone and give himself to them. He had never experienced that and he wanted to so badly. Giving Marco's hand a small squeeze, Jean kept his eyes trained on the pavement ahead of them as they crossed the street before he spoke.

"I want you to tell me everything that happened between you and Kitty on our way back to the hotel," Jean said, making sure his voice didn't tremble. "Then, when we get back to my room, we're locking ourselves in there and not coming out until tomorrow morning. Do you understand?"

Catching his drift, Marco smiled softly. "We should stop by a convenience store or something then. I didn't pack any condoms."

Jean shook his head to the side. "No, I can't wait. We can do without."

"Jean--"

"I'm not waiting." Jean turned to look at him. Stopping to pull him into a long heated but restrained kiss, he parted from the brunette; leaving him breathless. "I want you now and I refuse to put anymore distance between us and my bed. So start talking because you will not have the chance when we get upstairs."

"Fuck," Marco whispered against his lips, struggling not to just skip the conversation and run them back to the hotel. "Alright. So you want to know about Kitty," the man said clearing his throat.

\-------------------------------------------

The walk was long enough that it allowed Marco to touch on all the major points and influencers of his previous relationship. It was strange how little it hurt now. Maybe it was because Jean had not once let go of his hand the entire time. Or maybe it was because he and Kitty had finally reconciled. Either way, it was proof that his heart was in the right place; well, in the right hands. 

As they turned into the driveway of the Bancroft, Marco could feel his nerves lit up and his pulse race. Jean tightened his grip and led them inside. They were really doing this. It hadn't been a full month but neither of them could stop this--could stop this feeling from eating them alive. It was too strong to deny and they were too weak to fight it any longer.

Ignoring the few others that were scattered throughout the lobby--Marlo and Hitch included--the two men made a beeline to the elevator. It couldn't come fast enough; the impatience mounting as they watched the numbers fall as it descended. When the doors opened, they stepped into the lift and selected the third floor. As the entrance slid shut, Jean was the first to move.

Capturing Marco's mouth, the photographer pulled him into a deep passionate kiss that was all tongue and hands groping for purchase on his neck. His fingers knotted in that silky chocolate hair and tugged when Marco had come roaring to life. A growl rolled out of the brunette's lungs as he flipped them around and pushed Jean against the wall. Kissing and biting at his neck, Marco felt his control beginning to wane. Gasping for air, Jean raked his hand through the mans' hair while he watched spots dance across his vision.

The doors opened and Jean forced them to move. He needed to get them inside that room. Fumbling with his key, he finally managed to unlock the front entrance. Opening the door, a gasp escaped him as Marco took control and pressed Jean against the wall with one fluid movement. Kicking the door shut, the brunette did not once break the embrace. Sucking on the bottom of Jeans' lip, he felt the man call out his name. Just hearing him moan those sweet syllables in his ear followed by a 'please' was enough to make him hard.

When Marco's clothed half hard cock pressed firmly against Jean's own constrained erection, the younger man felt his legs threaten to buckle. Deciding to stoke the fires, Jean hopped up and Marco, without missing a beat, caught him before he could fall. Wrapping both legs around the brunette's waist, he could feel the pressure of the other mans length as it rubbed against his backside. A moan ripped through him when Marco began working the sensitive skin at the crook of his neck.

"Marco," Jean cried as he felt teeth graze over the spot. When he bit down, the photographers hips jerked forward and his fingers pulled at his hair. "Fuck, Marco," he breathed trying to keep his voice down.

"Why are you being quiet?" the brunette asked. Kissing from his neck to his ear, Marco ground his hips up into Jeans' as he whispered, "I want to hear your voice."

"But Eren's right below us and I don't want to wake him up."

"It's five in the evening so I doubt he's asleep love." Marco smiled nipping at Jeans' earlobe earning a sweet whimper in return. "I also happen to know that he, Levi, and Ymir are out at dinner with most of the team."

Steadying his breathing, Jean struggled to speak. "How do you know that?"

"Because Levi texted me earlier and asked if you and I wanted to meet up with them. I told them I had something else I had to do."

"'Something'?" Jean smiled as he kissed Marco. "More like someone."

"Indeed. So," pressing a firm commanding kiss to Jeans' lips, Marco murmured, "you can be as loud as you want."

"Shit," the photographer breathed with a grin. "Take me to bed, Marco."

Smiling playfully, Marco bit his bottom lip as he held onto Jean while walking them over to the bed. Laying him down, the brunette busied himself with ridding his partner of any and all clothes, starting with his shirt. As he popped the buttons of Jeans' flannel one by one, he kissed the fair skin of his chest as it was exposed; pushing the fabric away so that he could get a good look at him.

Marco smirked when he noticed a tattoo that he hadn't seen before over left-hand side of his ribs, tucked under his arm. 'Sing me a rainbow. Steal me a dream,' the brunette mused as he brushed his thumb over the black script. He recognized the words from an old Tom Waits song he had heard some time ago. Kissing the words, Marco made a trail of small kisses and bites up to Jeans' neck. Pressing his lips against the beauty mark in the hollow of his throat, he pulled away and kissed the mans' chin.

"I didn't know you had a tattoo," he breathed against Jeans' lips before dipping down for another all too eager embrace. "Is there a story behind it?"

Breaths hitching as Marco's skilled hands slipped down to palm the bulge in Jeans' pants, he struggled to make his mouth form words. "It's something Eren and I got before he left New York. Jesus fucking Christ," he panted as the friction and pressure from the other mans' hand increased. Rutting up into it, Jean pushed his head back into the pillow. "Oh my God, Marco, please."

"I know," Marco said in that velvety rich voice that sent shivers racing through Jean. "Don't worry babe, I got you."

Kissing him deeply, Marco undid Jeans' belt and zipper. They parted briefly when the photographer urged him to take off his shirt. Sitting back on his haunches, he did as he had been asked. Halfway through the removal, he felt Jean sit up and kiss his stomach. He moaned as Jean kissed a path down from his navel to the edge of his pants. 

Undoing the button and zipper, Jean moved the denim down until the outline of Marco's length was exposed. Bracing the brunette with his hands on his hip and around his waist, the younger man kissed the head of the cock through the black fabric of his boxers. The sensation of Jean's lips on him took Marco by surprise; knocking the wind from him. 

Grabbing hold of the hand on his hip while his other gripped onto the photographers' shoulder, Marco's jaw went slack as those lips kissed the full length of his erection. Jean teased the captive member with a light graze of his teeth before licking the head through the fabric; sucking at the tip just enough to make his eyes roll back.

"Fuck," Marco breathed. Raking a hand through Jeans' hair, he almost cried out when the man pulled his boxers down and took his length in his mouth. "Jean! Holy shit," Marco moaned.

The soft heat of Jeans' mouth and the sensation of his tongue wrapping around him made his head spin. Pressing back into the photographers steady hands, he groaned and gasped as the younger man worked his cock. Bobbing up and down, he pulled away to kissed and nip at the tip before taking it whole again. 

Moaning around his shaft, Jean relished in the way Marco's control seemed to vanish. He could have sucked him off until he came and a part of him wanted to. The sounds Marco was making were so lewd and hot as they spilled from his lips like wine. But Jean was painfully hard and wanted release.

"Jean," Marco gasped. "Jean stop. Not yet. I don't want to yet."

Pulling away, Jean looked up into those burning brown eyes that had been set alight with passion and need. Without breaking the gaze, Marco reached out and ran his thumb over Jean's bottom lip. A second later, he had captured the mans mouth with his. Ridding Jean of his pants and he of his a moment later, Marco pressed their forms together; enjoying the feeling of their hot slick skin touching in a way entirely different from the times before.

Hooking his arms around Marco's neck, Jean pulled the brunette closer so there wasn't even a fraction of space between them. He needed more of his touch. More of his kisses and that delicious taste that was uniquely Marco's. More of those hands all over his body as it screamed out for release. He needed more of Marco and he couldn't wait.

"Marco," Jean breathed as he kissed the man feverishly. "I need you to touch me."

"It's alright," Marco said softly as he nuzzled into Jeans' neck and jacked the mans' left leg up so that it was secured around his waist. Licking his fingers until they were slick, Marco went back to kissing Jean as his left index finger circled Jeans' tight hole. "I've got you."

As the first digit pushed inside him, Jeans' body shook and his head snapped back. It had been so long since he had been touched like this. He didn't even use his backside when he jerked off anymore so to feel the presence of someone pushing into him was overwhelming. Forcing his lungs and heart to behave, Jean hung on tightly as Marco worked him open. When he had gotten used to the one finger, the brunette added a second; spreading them apart inside to stretch him more.

"Oh my God," Jean gasped as the third slipped inside. "There," he breathed when they rubbed against his prostate. "Right there, Marco."

"Here?" Marco cooed as he teased the spot pulling a loud wanton cry from Jean. "You really are enjoying this."

"It's because you're too good," he breathed in between kisses. "Fuck, you're so good Marco."

"If you keep talking like that, I won't be able to hold back," Marco grunted, fighting the urge to take him with full force.

Crying out as Marco's fingers pushed deeper and harder into him, Jean gasped while reaching up to kiss him. "Marco, please, I can't handle anymore. I want you... I want you inside."

"Damn it," the brunette growled.

Unable to stop himself, he removed his fingers and lined the tip of his length up with Jeans' entrance. Without warning, he pushed hard inside; a jagged gasp escaping his lips when the other man took his entire length with one swift thrust. Jean moaned louder than he ever had, feeling his cock twitch when Marco's tip brushed up against his already sensitive prostrate. He knew he wouldn't last long so he wanted to savor every second of this perfect moment. 

The feeling of being wholly and perfectly filled and the love for the man holding him that swelled in his chest threatened to take him over right then and there. But he had to hold on. He wanted Marco to feel just as good as he was in that moment. Pulling the brunette into a kiss, he wove their fingers together in the pillows above him.

"Move," Jean commanded in a low pant against Marco's kiss-swollen lips.

Obeying without any thought of denying him any longer, Marco snapped his hips forward, thrusting hard and deep into Jean.

"Marco!" Jean cried as the thrusts continued and the pace picked up. "Marco, right there. Holy shit, right there. Don't stop! Oh fuck, don't stop," he moaned.

Unrelenting, Marco continued the brutal assault on Jeans' prostate. He could feel the fire building in the pit of his stomach and the nerves along his spine tingle as they caught ablaze. Jean was so tight and hot around him. Every time he hit that soft spot near the back, the younger man would squeeze harder and cry out the sweetest obscenities Marco had ever heard. Jean was so perfect.

"So fucking perfect," Marco growled. Bending down, he bit and suckled Jeans' neck earning another long moan. "God, you're so good. Everything is so fucking perfect. And that voice. Fuck, I could cum just from hearing you say my name."

"Do it," Jean pleaded knowing he would soon break and lose control. "Fucking cum Marco. Please."

"I can't. You're still---"

"Do it inside. Please Marco, cum inside."

"Fuck," the brunette said as his composure caved and he drove hard and fast into Jean, bringing them both to their climax.

"Marco!" Jean moaned as he rode out his orgasm; feeling the brunette release inside him.

"Jean, I can't," Marco hissed as he clamped down on Jean, kissing him long and deep like it was the only thing holding him together.

With a few final thrusts, the movement stopped and they were left panting and retching for air. The sensation was still so raw--so intense--that neither could bring themselves to speak. They just lied together, still joined at the base, breathing in each other's warmth. Jean whined softly when Marco slid out. He liked Marco being inside him. It wasn't a kink of his or anything because this was the first time he missed how full and whole it made him feel.

After he had regained control of the majority of his limbs, Marco propped himself up on both elbows--hovering just an inch or two over Jean. He had felt the other mans' heart beat irregularly and thought it was because of his added weight. But when the photographers' expression started to contort in pain, the brunette reacted immediately.

"Is it your heart?" Marco asked while trying to stay calm. When Jean nodded, he bit his lip anxiously. "What should I do? What do you need babe?"

"Pressure," Jean groaned as the pain tightened in his chest. "I need you to hold me as tight as possible so that the pressure forces it to slow down."

"Okay," Marco spoke as evenly as he could manage. Gathering Jean into his arms, he applied what he thought would be enough force. "Is this alright?"

"More," the other man groaned as the pain intensified. "Tighter Marco."

Fighting his reservations, Marco did what he had to and pulled Jean into an embrace that could have broken bones. Focusing all the strength he had on compressing the younger mans' chest, he flexed his arms and pushed his chest against the one beneath him. He could feel the racing pulse and the skipping beats. He could hear the air wrestling past Jeans' lips and the little whines from what had to be an unbearable amount of pressure.

It was a frightening thought that, one moment, Jean could be so full of life and whispering lovingly into his ear and then be struggling to get his heart to work properly the next. A seed of guilt had planted itself in Marco's heart; telling him that he was the reason the man he loved was in pain. As the dread danced in his deep eyes, Jean caught it before the idea could hatch any more nasty thoughts. 

Wrapping his arms around the brunette, the younger man took a deep breath, closed, his eyes, and held on tightly as he waited for the spell to pass. His fingers twisted in Marco's hair and clawed superficially at the tanned skin of his back. Slowly but surely, his rapid pulse slowed and the beat returned to normal. Sighing in relief, Jean nosed at Marco's ear before kissing it sweetly.

"Thanks," he smiled, still out of breath from the quick transition of intense love-making to emergency cardiac aid. "See, it wasn't as bad as you thought it'd be."

"You almost had a heart attack," Marco scoffed, surprised at how easily he blew off what had just happened.

"Marco, stop," Jean said sternly. Smoothing the damp strands of chocolate brown hair from the older mans' forehead, he gazed into those eyes he loved so much. "I've lived with this since I was ten. It isn't anything new and if it only took one round of fucking to kill me, I would have died on my prom night. You've got to calm down."

"But--"

Taking Marco's hand, Jean placed the sweaty palm over his heart. "You feel that?" he asked, keeping his gaze trained on the brunette. "It's still beating. I'm okay Marco. You stopped it before it could get out of control. Understand?"

"Really?" Marco breathed, still staring at Jean's chest as if he could see past the skin, muscles, and bones to gaze upon his beating heart. "You're okay?"

"Really really," the photographer said fondly. Kissing the brunette's forehead, he beamed brightly. "You're my lifeguard; always keeping an finger on my pulse just in case."

Biting his lip, Marco smiled. "Doesn't sound like a bad job to me." 

Leaning down, Marco kissed his companion with such sweetness that the love was thick enough to cut with a knife. Jean was his perfect match and he couldn't stop himself from wanting to take care of him. He knew that there would be rough patches in the future and days when they didn't see eye to eye, but he was determined to keep him; to wake up each morning to that lovely face and those brilliant pools of liquid amber. 

Shifting under the brunette, Jean ran his fingertips up the slim line of his spine while kissing a trail from Marco's lips to his shoulder. Despite his heart and aching back urging his body to relax, the photographer resisted. Once wasn't enough. And nor would a second or a third toss in the sheets. He would always crave for more of Marco's searing touch, those savage lips, and commanding eyes. 

He would always need more of Marco because he was the air in his lungs that told him he was still alive after so many years of living without feeling. There would be bad days and stupid petty fights, but Jean was willing to take whatever he dished because this happiness was worth more than all the wealth of the world.

Jean rolled them over so that he was on top and Marco was splayed out beneath him. Taking the brunettes hands in his, the younger man moved them up above his head while slowly weaving their fingers together. He was stunning; everything from those dimples on his cheeks to the light freckles that peppered his bronzed skin. Craning his neck down, Jean kissed Marco long and deep; savoring the taste and the weight of the other mans tongue in his mouth. Parting just enough to move his lips to the older mans' ear, the younger one smiled deviously.

"Ready for round two?" Jean cooed, nibbling at Marco's earlobe.

Moaning happily as Jean rolled his hips forward so that his hardening cock could rub against Marco's, the brunette sighed. "So long as we take it slow, I'm ready when you are."

"But I like it when you're rough with me," the younger man murmured while he tilted his head back and to the right so his companion could get to his neck.

"Sounds like a kink of yours," Marco smirked, kissing Jean's throat and the beauty mark that he had secretly turned into his own lucky charm. "For now, lets take things slow. I feel like we rushed things last time and I didn't get the chance to really appreciate you."

"I'm not a meal Marco."

"I was thinking more along the lines of a piece of art but food is a good analogy too since I want to eat you up," he said with a crooked smile as he hooked both legs around Jean's hips and rolled them over. Straddling the younger man, Marco breathed silently as he placed a hand on Jean's heart then kissed him once on the lips. "I want all of you."

"But you already have me," Jean breathed. 

Swaying his hips under Marco's, Jean relaxed his hands before tightening his grip again; their fingers weaving together even more so that there wasn't any chance of escape. It was like they had made love a million times before and still found excitement in teasing each other before losing themselves. There was a comfortability and easiness in that moment; as if they had been together for three years instead of three weeks. They were an undeniable match made somewhere in the uncharted heavens above and it showed in the glow that hummed in their eyes.

"Hey Marco," Jean smiled brightly as he sat up and kissed the man on the cheek. "I love you."

Kissing him tenderly while tightening his grip on Jeans' hands, Marco whispered, "I love you more."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just like Marco has a mellow out playlist, Jean does too. And while he loves rock, rap, and most other loud forms of music, there are times when all he wants to do is sit and level his hyper mind with some easy jams. So here's Jean's version of the "Mellow Out" playlist.
> 
> *Knocking At The Sky List*
> 
> -"Livewire" by Oh Wonder  
> -"Technicolour Beat" by Oh Wonder  
> -"White Blood" by Oh Wonder  
> -"The Rain" by Oh Wonder  
> -"Dazzle" by Oh Wonder  
> -"Body Gold (Louis The Child Remix)" by Oh Wonder  
> -"Blame" by Tropics  
> -"Torrents of Spring" by Tropics  
> -"Rapture" by Tropics  
> -"Rolling Stone" by The Weeknd  
> -"The Party & The After Party" by The Weeknd  
> -"House Of Balloons/ Glass Table Girls" by The Weeknd  
> -"China Girl" by Anna Ternheim  
> -"Can't Smile Without You" by Barry Manilow  
> -"Into The Ocean" by Blue October  
> -"You're Getting To Be A Habit On Me" by Buddy Rich  
> -"I'll See You Soon" by Coldplay  
> -"The Scientist" by Coldplay  
> -"Always In My Head" by Coldplay  
> -"Magic" by Coldplay  
> -"True Love" by Coldplay  
> -"Midnight" by Coldplay  
> -"Oceans" by Coldplay  
> -"Fix You" by Coldplay  
> -"The Blower's Daughter" by Damian Rice  
> -"I Will Follow You Into The Dark" by Death Cab For Cutie  
> -"Brother's On A Hotel Bed" by Death Cab For Cutie  
> -"In A Week" by Hozier feat. Karen Cowley  
> -"Such Great Heights" by Iron & Wine  
> -"Each Coming Night" by Iron & Wine  
> -"The Trapeze Swinger" by Iron & Wine  
> -"Rose Captain" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Neutral Ground" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Leave In The River" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Whirlpool" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Blue Stockings" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Sick In The Head" by The Lumineers  
> -"White Lie" by The Lumineers  
> -"I Of The Storm" by Of Monsters and Men  
> -"Such Great Heights" by The Postal Service  
> -"Kid A" by Radiohead  
> -"Let Down" by Radiohead  
> -"Motion Picture Soundtrack" by Radiohead  
> -"Treefingers" by Radiohead


	9. The Lived Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco learns some fun facts about his lover, Levi sets things straight with Eren, and the crew says goodbye to San Francisco...
> 
>  
> 
> \-----KEY TERM!: The title of this chapter is called the "Lived Body" after the actual term used by existentialists. The concept of the Lived Body is that instead of living a life where we separate our mind from our physical being and treat our bodies like machines that are merely vessels for the soul, we should live a life where we experience the world's fullness with a body that is in touch with our heart and mind. Only by connecting the two can we truly live a fulfilling life.
> 
> \-----So this is one of my shorter chapters. I had a bit of trouble writing it hence it's shorter length. Thank you for your patience though. I hope you all like it. <3

The late morning sun was already arching high in the sky, chasing the thick San Franciscan marine layer away. It was jarring how inconsistent the weather was in northern California. One moment, it was pouring rain with droplets the size of golf balls; the next the sun was pressing down on the city with all it's luminous beauty. Stretching out with gentle licks of heat, the rays of golden light crept into the quiet confines of Jeans hotel room.

Groaning as the sunlight shined on his pillow and, subsequently, his eyes, the photographer shifted onto his other side to avoid the rude awakening. When he had settled in place he took notice of the form lying next to him. Through the grogginess, he felt a smooth yet firm body that emanated a comforting soft heat that wrapped around him. He could feel the dip and rise of expanding and compressing lungs that dragged the air in. Beneath the steady breaths was a calm pulse that drummed under the flat of his palm.

It was like floating along in a dream where the senses happily lit up as the body relaxed. This dream, that was so welcoming and comforting, couldn't possibly be real. But as a breeze blew in through the window that had been left ajar, the familiar scent of citrus, ocean spray, and sunblock danced across his nose.

The scent dragged Jean from his sleep; commanding him to see if the body he was holding was real or a figment of his imagination. His bright amber eyes flickered open to the sight of Marco peacefully asleep. A smile spread across his face as the love in his heart boiled over. This was real. This beautiful, amazing and wonderfully imperfect man lying beside him was real and he was his. 

Reaching up, Jean tucked some stray hairs behind Marco's ear; laughing slightly when the brunette's face sprunched up like a child being roused from their slumber. The light trickling in through the curtains highlighted the mans' sun-kissed face, casting attention onto the faint freckles on his nose and cheeks that travelled down his neck and shoulders. Stroking one of Marco's well-groomed eyebrows with the pad of his thumb, he noticed a beauty mark he had never seen before near the corner of his eye. The man sighed and groaned beneath the gentle touch--slowly coming to. As he did, Jean moved enough that he could kiss the little newly discovered mark.

"Jean?" Marco mumbled bringing a closed hand to his face so that he could rub the sleep from his eyes.

"Morning," Jean cooed, kissing his chin then lips. "You're adorable, you know that?"

"Mmm?"

Chuckling, the photographer lowered his arm to wrap around Marco's waist. "I rest my case. God, you're gorgeous."

Smiling brightly, the brunette opened his eyes, instantly taking Jean's breath away. "You look pretty good too."

Beaming brightly with his face still halfway furrowed into the white cotton sham of the down pillows, Marco groaned as Jean peppered his neck and shoulders with kisses. Flinching when the younger mans' fingers danced up his ribs, the brunette tried to hide the sudden deflection though with abysmal success. Catching on to the knee jerk reaction, the photographer ghosted his hands up the other mans' ribs. When Marco squirmed and tried to move away, Jean laughed with a wicked grin playing across his lips.

"Are you ticklish?" he teased as he continued the assault on the brunette's sensitive skin.

"No," Marco urged while trying to get a hold on Jean's prying hands. "Your fingers are just cold."

"I was touching you before that and you didn't seem to have any complaints."

"Stop it Jean," Marco protested with a pleading smile. Dodging one poke only to be suckered by another, he struggled to hide his laughter. "Seriously, stop it. I don't like that."

"Oh my God, you're so ticklish! How do you even manage it?" the other laughed loudly.

Pushing a pillow against Jean's chest, Marco took the opportunity to roll away. Yet, before he could escape, the photographer snuck in one last jab. It was just a shot in the dark, but Jean thought if Marco were sensitive on his ribs, maybe he'd have ticklish feet too. When the brunette flailed and slipped off the bed as his reaction to the jab at his foot, the younger man fell backwards onto the bed laughing himself silly. The humiliation would have been worse if Marco weren't wearing his boxers and had fallen from his perch in the buff.

Tangled in the sheet that had pooled underneath him on the hardwood floor, Marco stared at the ceiling fan for a long moment then slowly began to chuckle. He looked like a damn fool and they both knew it. But even so, there was little embarrassment to be had. Shifting to lay on the flat of his stomach, Jean folded his arms over the edge of the mattress and looked over the sight before him.

"You were saying?" he smirked devilishly.

Groaning as he propped himself up on both elbows, Marco chuckled. "Fine, I'm ticklish and I hate being poked in my sides. Happy?"

"Very."

"Don't get any bright ideas. I almost broke Ymir's nose when we were kids because she caught me off guard once."

"That seems a little excessive," Jean laughed lightly as he watched the brunette sit up so that they were at eye level with one another. "Anything else I should know about that may get me clocked?"

"I am a terrible choice of escort for haunted houses," Marco smiled lazily. Resting his head on the bed next to Jean's, he tilted it to the side and shot him a flirtatious wink. "I'm the world's biggest horror movie wimp."

"Seriously? I thought you'd be into that. Don't know why but you seemed like the kind of guy who likes scary movies."

"Nah, I prefer sci-fi and fantasy movies." Kissing Jean's nose which was just close enough, Marco then rubbed his freckled nose against the photographers. "What about you? My guess, classics like the Godfather and Full Metal Jacket?"

"Damn, I guess I'm that easy to read. Although I do like films like Lord of the Rings and shit."

"Well who wouldn't?"

"Connie."

"He dies tonight," Marco deadpanned as Jean playfully slapped his shoulder. "Hmm, let's see. What else don't I know? Oh, okay, favorite color?"

"Midnight blue. You?"

"Yellow, like at sunrise."

"Hmm," Jean hummed. Combing back the soft locks of chocolate hair that had fallen over Marco's face, the man thought for a moment about what he would ask. "Alright, my turn. Name a sport, other than surfing, that you always wanted to learn as a kid."

"Snowboarding. But when you live on a tropical island, there isn't much snow so the options are limited."

"Tropical island?" Jean parroted, his smile twisting a bit from the confusion.

"I was born and raised on Oahu. I could've sworn I told you that."

"No, you did not."

"Well, surprise, I'm Hawaiian," Marco made a spectacle with his interpretation of jazz hands before he got up to join Jean on the bed. "But yeah, Ymir and I were born in Hale'iwa by the North Shore. We had to commute two hours every day for school because we went to Moanalua High which was on the other side of the damn island. And whenever my dad was given an animation gig, he would spend months away from home because the Disney studio was in Honolulu."

"Wait a minute, back it up," Jean said shifting on the bed so that he was facing Marco with his legs criss-crossed. "You're Hawaiian, grew up near the Banzai Pipeline, and your dad works for Disney?"

"Yeah, guess I didn't mention any of this before. How did you know about Banzai though? I didn't even mention it."

"Anyone that surfs knows where it is genius."

"You surf?!" Marco gawked, his eyes almost falling from his head.

"Wow, that reaction," Jean scoffed feigning insult. "You really think kids in New York just sit inside all summer and stew in our own angst?"

"Well at least you aren't denying it."

"Asshole," the photographer laughed, smacking the side of the brunettes head with the pillow he had been holding in his lap. "I may not be a big wave rider like you but I have a few boards in storage that have seen their fair share of action. The last time I went out was with Eren out by the Terrace in Montauk. We were only in the water for an hour or two before a massive great white showed up and drove everyone out of the surf. I don't think I've ever paddled that hard in my life; the bastard was huge!"

"You surfed in Montauk?!" Marco spoke, still unable to believe his ears. "Jaws central was your surf spot? No fucking way."

"It wasn't my favorite spot but it was the closest to my family's summer home so I didn't really have much of a choice." Jean shrugged.

"Holy crap, my boyfriend is a shark fighting bad-ass mother fucker."

"Eh, not really. It wasn't rare for whites to show up but, weirdly enough, they only went after people once in a while. What really messed shit up were the beginners that would drop in on you as you’re trying to get a decent ride in. Every time some idiot did that, I wished that they'd wipe out. Anyways, back to you and your secret life."

"Not much of a secret love," Marco smiled softly as he wrapped both arms around Jean and pulled him into his lap. As they reclined back into the pillows, rumpled duvet, and tousled sheets, he continued. "My mother is a native Hawaiian and my father is German but he was born in Honolulu. Apparently both of my grandparents on his side fled Germany during the Nazi takeover and they met in San Fran but moved to Hawaii. I don't really know though because they passed away when I was little."

"So can you speak Hawaiian?"

"Aloha wau ia 'oe," Marco whispered as he pivoted his head to the side to kiss the fair dewy skin of Jean's neck.

Laughing lightly at the way his breath tickled his skin, Jean tilted his head further to the side so that he could look Marco in the eyes. "What does that mean."

Kissing his forehead, Marco smirked. "Google it."

"Jerk," the photographer teased but didn't bother fussing over it.

Gazing down at their fingers that hand woven themselves together without him even noticing, Jean grinned at the fluttering in his chest. These little moments had been so far and few in his past that to experience so many in concession was surreal. But there they were, joined together in a gentle embrace that cradled them both in its all-encompassing warmth.

Admiring the tanned skin of Marco's hands, arms, and legs, it made sense--in hindsight--that he would be Hawaiian. The man was a wave riding beach fiend that could make any of Cosmo's "sexiest men alive" weep. And to match his beautiful exterior was his mellow personality and charming smile. The man was practically the poster child for the Aloha state. Only thing that failed to match up was his name.

"I know this is a dumb question," Jean mused, his eyes still on their hands. "Why did your parents name you and you sister Marco and Ymir? Why not go for something more Hawaiian?"

"Marco was my grandfather's brothers' name," the brunette said. "They were best friends but he was caught helping Jews cross the the Polish border and was executed. So my father named me after him because if it hadn't been for him, I wouldn't have been born. My sister was named Ymir because my parents had been working on a film together that played on Norse mythology. Whenever we go back home to visit though our relatives and mom and dad call us by our Hawaiian nicknames."

"What do they call you guys?"

"Ymir is 'Mahina" for the moon and my family calls me 'Kai' because I like the ocean. But when we were little she used to call me Pua'a and I called her Moa."

"Which means?"

"Pua'a is a pig and Moa is a chicken. I was kinda chubby when I was little and she was tall with really skinny legs so we would tease each other about it."

"Aww, can I call you Pua'a?" Jean cracked a playful smile as he leaned into Marco and tilted his head up--securing the mans' chin in his grasp. "It's kinda cute."

"Don't you dare," Marco warned but without any form of a threat. His smirk was humorous with a slight hint of mischief. "You do and I'll introduce you to my parents as my pilialo."

"I don't even know what that means."

"Oh, you'll find out." Marco chuckled. Pausing for a moment, he nuzzled into Jean's neck to breath in that comforting smell of warm skin and sandalwood. "Speaking of family, my parents are going to be visiting over spring break and I was wondering if you'd like to meet them. I'd understand if you wanted to hold off on that since its only been a couple--"

"I'd love to," Jean beamed lovingly as he kissed the brunette on the chin. "And I doubt traditional dating rules can be applied to any aspect of our relationship at this point. We've only been together for three weeks and some change and we've already said 'I love you' and had sex."

"True," the older one shrugged with a nod. "So, you'll meet them?"

"Mhmm."

"Good, because Ymir's already let the cat out of the bag. My mom has been hounding me about you for the past couple days and it's getting to be a bit much."

"She sounds kind of intense."

Resting his head on Jean's shoulder again, Marco groaned. "You can only imagine. Think Ymir, now multiple that by ten. She's the typical mother hen--short, petite, wears glasses, and has an attitude you don't want to be on the bad side of. All of my childhood friends had overbearing fathers except for me. My dad is the calm one and my mom is the head of the household and everyone knows it. But she's funny and has a big heart. Just don't mess with her people, is all."

"I'll keep that in mind," Jean chuckled. 

Glancing to the clock, the photographer noticed that they only had two hours to get dressed for the awards ceremony banquet. Instead of an evening event, the committee decided that it would be best to have a luncheon so the students from southern California could get a head start on the drive or flight home. And while Santa Barbara wasn't too far away, it made all the difference when the sun dipped below the horizon. For Jean, this meant forcing himself to stay awake long enough to get his group of people home safe and sound. After the incident with Levi on the second day, Eren had asked him to drive on the way home. The sooner they packed up and loaded the car, the quicker they would be leaving the city.

So while Jean wanted nothing more than to stay in bed with Marco all day long and listen to him talk about his childhood and family life, he knew that they had to get a move on. Lifting their entwined hands, the photographer kissed the smooth bronze skin that formed around his fair fingers and palm.

"We should start packing for the drive home and clean up for the banquet," Jean said with a slight tone of bitterness. He really didn't want to let go of this moment but they didn't have a choice.

"Yeah. Rumor has it you're slated to sweep today."

"Never trust cheap gossip," the younger man stated matter-of-factly as he pulled away from the warm embrace and grabbed his sleeping pants off of the floor. "It makes for scandal and ruin."

"That's true but I happened to hear this from my fellow judges. You forget but I was on the assessment panel for a number of events."

"Still, I don't want to jinx it or anything. It's bad luck."

Shaking his head, Marco rose from the bed and began the search for his discarded clothing. "Who knew you'd be the superstitious type," he joked while slipping on his jeans and tee shirt. Kissing Jean on the cheek after he had gathered the remainder of his things, he took his leave. "Later babe. I'll see you at the banquet. You're driving the way back right?"

"Yeah," Jean confirmed then kissed him back before he could leave. "What about you?"

"Same. Ymir's been a little under the weather so I offered."

"Okay well drive safely and pull over if you start to get tired."

"Got it. Love you," the brunette said as he opened the door.

"Love you too."

\-----------------------------------------------------

The banquet came sooner than Jean had expected and was far more extravagant than he thought it would be. All the men were in day suits and the women were in Sunday dresses or a nice blouse and skirt or slacks with a blazer. Luckily enough for him, he had listened to Eren when he had told Jean to pack his charcoal grey suit and slim black tie. Finishing the look with the platinum Tiffany cuff-links his father had given him as a graduation present and the matching silver tie bar, he looked every inch the New York blue blood he was; and that was a problem.

To off-set the severe elegance and prestige his suit and ritzy accessories, Jean added two small onyx studs to his left ear and one to his right. Nodding in approval at the image he saw reflected back in the mirror, the young man grabbed his wallet and shoved it into his back pocket on the way out. Closing the door, he opened it again a second later to grab his press badge. After the week his team was having, the thing may actually come in handy. That and he didn't want to provoke Shadis who already had to remind him twice to keep the ID on him at all times.

Downstairs, Jean met up with the rest of the team--save for Marco, Levi, Marlo, and Ymir who had to leave early since they were presenters. Together, the gang made their way across the street and up the block to the MLK Jr. building. Flashing their badges at the campus security posted outside the main entrance, they wandered inside and up the stairs to the ballroom.

Every year had a different theme for the closing ceremony banquet. Last year Japan nightlife and the year before that was Tuscany. This year, it was the Buddha Bar. Obviously someone on the committee had been to one of the famed establishments and thought it would be a great idea to try to replicate the experience and replicate it they did. Everything from the luxurious red and gold decor and candle lit tables and twinkling crystal orb chandeliers to the giant statue of Buddha that towered over the speakers podium at the front of the room--it was all meticulously selected and perfectly put together.

"Holy shit," Jean murmured under his breath when he entered the massive gathering space. "How did they do this?"

"Money," Eren joked from his side. "This is one of the wealthiest schools in the country, especially on the west coast. This is nothing for them."

"Fuck, and I thought New Yorkers had big egos."

"You should have seen it last year. It was way more excessive than this. This is pretty toned down to be honest."

"Right," Jean said as his eyes scanned the crowd.

Near the front of bustling ballroom were the five tables for the Nexus and KCSB teams. Some of the radio hosts and photographers were already seated. Sam, Taylor, and Mohammad were chatting between sips of wine and champagne. Crouching next to Mo who was looking as suave as ever, was Rico dressed to the nines in a dark plum suit and black tie. His girlfriend, Harmony was at his side reviewing the photos she had taken earlier. Tapping Rico on the shoulder, she asked him to help her pick out the top fifteen out of the two hundred she had already caught.

Waving to Sam and Taylor, Eren and the group headed toward their seats. Jean, however, hanged back and looked for the face he had been searching for. It shouldn't have taken him so long to find if he had thought to look in the one place where he was sure to find the man. Just to the right and a couple feet behind the speakers podium was the dj's stand. And, as to be expected, Marco was behind the mixers with his headphones on. It was an unspoken tradition that the Bott's and the other radio hosts from the competing schools would help DJ the event. This just so happened to be his segment. After him would be Ymir followed by Oksana from San Diego and Richie from UCLA.

As he approached the stand, Jean couldn't help but appreciate how handsome the man looked in a suit. Opting for slimming black slacks and a crisp white button down, he paired it with a dark silver blazer that had been draped over the metal stool to his left. Marco had loosened his black silk waffle weave tie that was being held in place by the platinum monogrammed tie bar at its center. Both sleeves were rolled up to alleviate the heat despite how cool it was from the air-conditioning. Grooving to the music, that familiar childlike smile worked its way across his beautiful features.

"Hey baby, mind if I buy you a drink?" Jean chimed playfully as he approached Marco from the side.

When the brunette turned his head to see who was talking, his smile grew. "I don't know. My boyfriend may get jealous."

"That's too bad," the photographer chuckled. Stepping up onto the stand, he kissed Marco on the cheek. "How goes it?"

"Eh, it's alright. The music selection is kind of difficult this year because it's a little out of my element but other than that, not too bad. You look nice," Marco said taking a long appreciating look at the man next to him.

"It's just an old suit I had lying around."

"Yeah, just an old ratty suit that happens to be fitted to your measurements. What is that, Armani?"

"Uh yeah," Jean said trying to shift the conversation topic. He hated it when people pointed out the price tags on some of the gifts his parents had bought him. "Hey, how long does this lunch thing usually take? Eren said they try to keep it at a three hour maximum so that the people from farther away can get a jump on the long trip back home."

"It really depends but it looks like a big crowd this year so my guess would be three hours, maybe a little more. Why? Is something up?"

"No, I just don't like driving at night. Glasses help but there's going to be fog messing up the drive so I'm a little on edge."

"Well I'll drive alongside you then to make sure you stay on track. Sound good?"

"You sure? I thought you guys had to be at the front since Levi's in your group."

"Levi's riding with Keith on the ride home. He said he had to talk to him about something. But yeah, I'll stay close and keep an eye on you guys. 'Kay?"

"'Kay," Jean smiled, touched by Marco's offer and thoughtfulness. "I gotta go sit down with the rest of the gang but I'll see you when you wrap up here, right?"

"Yeah. Save me a seat, 'kay."

"Right." Kissing him one more time the young man then placed a sweet peck on his cheek. "Love you."

"Love you too," Marco winked with a sly smile.

\--------------------------------------------------------

As Levi went through the motions of greeting fellow professors and carrying on brief casual conversations, he felt his energy begin to wane. He had been up since 5:30 a.m. contemplating what he should do about this newfound relationship between he and Eren. It would likely be impossible to hide; one way or another one of them was bound to slip up. And it would look even worse if he tried hiding it. The professor did not want to appear to be playing favorites or make it look as though Eren were participating in "sexual bribery" in exchange for higher grades. 

So, going against the wishes of his personal comfort, he decided to tell Shadis on the drive back to Santa Barbara.

Best case scenario, Keith would force Levi to hand the grading of Eren's assignments over to him and would be placed under observation for further evaluation. Worst case scenario, he would be fired or placed on suspension or both and Eren would be required to withdraw from all classes he had with Levi. 

It was frightening to consider but it was the reality they lived in. The young man was his student and there were going to be consequences; some better than others but critical nonetheless. But the fact of the matter is that he had settled it in his heart to hold onto the boy no matter the outcome. If the worst came to pass, Levi was prepared to risk his position and withdraw from his teaching post to ensure Eren's future. 

The kid was still finding his place in the world whereas he was already fairly accomplished and still had his former boss from Nat Geo calling him for freelance work. Levi would have no trouble finding another job but he did not want to take Eren down with him if they were called up by the academic board. He would just have to place all his bets on Shadis being the understanding man he knew him to be and pray for the best.

Making his way through the crowd that had began to thicken, Levi closed in on the cluster of large tables set aside for the UCSB students and faculty. Most of the staff from the Nexus had already sat down. Marco had just been relieved of his duties by Ymir and was now casually lounging next to Jean. From the way their hands were gripped together in plain view, Levi assumed that the couple were no longer trying to hide their relationship. It was stupid of them to even try in the first place. They were so sweet on each other, it made him cringe at the sight. But then again, he wasn't one to talk, all things considered.

When Jean caught sight of Levi approaching the group he kicked Eren's shoe under the table then gestured in the mans direction. Turning his gaze to see who or what his friend was motioning to, the brunette was rendered speechless when his eyes fell on their professor.

Outfitted in a dark midnight blue suit tailored to his measurements, a crisp white button down, and a black silk tie, Levi was the very embodiment of cool. Because it was a formal event, he had his hair combed back into a neat pompadour and had swapped his contacts for glasses. It was an impossible sight for Eren to process. He knew the man was good-looking but this was unearthly. No one had any right to be that handsome.

From across the short distance, their eyes connected. There was a pulse pounding magneticism that sparked between them that grew the closer he got. Eren felt sick with desire; the junkie in him screaming out to kiss the man until his craving was sated. He could feel his fingers itching to touch that smooth alabaster skin and drown in his intoxicating scent. And, though he was unable to be entirely sure, Eren caught himself wondering how long he had gone thinking Levi's eyes were steel grey when, in fact, they were a silvery blue; just like starlight. 'Is it because of the color of his suit?' the brunette pondered.

Taking the seat opposite of the awestruck photo editor, Levi slumped against the padded chair with a long drawn out sigh. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he forced the budding headache--compliments of the combination of strong incense and heavy music--to cooperate with him and hold off until the banquet was over. Rolling his head to the side, he caught sight of Eren who was still staring.

"What?" the adviser quipped, unsure if he liked how disbelieving the young mans' gaze was.

Still unable to believe that the man before him was the same one who taught him how to balance white light, Eren furrowed his brows. "Who are you?"

"Is he okay?" Levi asked after sparing the kid another concerned glance. "He didn't hit his head on the way over did he?"

"He's alright," Jean said while stifling a fit of laughter. "Although, you do look considerably different than you normally do."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you look good, Levi," Marco interjected. Arching a brow, he smirked. "Have you ever considered modelling? If Kate Moss can do it at her height, I have no doubts you could too."

"Wow, let's blow the dust off that one Bott," the adviser spoke in a flat tone, clearly not amused. Turning his attention back to Eren, he leaned forward and snapped his fingers loud enough to hear over the music. "Hey," he called. "You keep staring at me like that and a bug's going to fly into your mouth."

Closing his mouth faster than the words had been said, Eren scowled. "Whatever. I wasn't staring at you."

"I'm not even going to dignify that lie with a response," the adviser snorted with an smug smirk. "So how are you all feeling tonight? You guys pretty confident?"

Shrugging, Jean glanced to his bright-eyed friend then back to the professor. "Well, it was a little rough with Eren out of the game because he was supposed to carry five competitions but I think we managed pretty well. Sam and Taylor really stepped up to the plate and Mo, well, he did what he usually does and got the job done."

"Sorry that I let you guys down," Eren murmured suddenly feeling the weight of his actions and the consequences they had on his team. "I should have pulled myself together and--"

"Eren," Levi spoke sternly from his seat across the table before the kid could finish his sentence. "That was not your call. Even if you had been in a sound state of mind to compete, the committee still would have barred you from taking part in any on-spot events."

"But--"

"Stop. This wasn't your fault. I don't want to hear you apologize for something that was outside of your control. Understand?" The adviser paused briefly, waiting for Eren to nod. When he did, his expression softened, though not noticeably enough for the others to catch. "You have a well-rounded photo staff and it would do you some good to trust them when the cards are down. That's what leaders do; they lead by example and encourage growth. 'Kay?"

Although the young man shook his head to acknowledge that he understood what Levi was saying, the adviser couldn't say any more for fear of exposing too much of their real relationship. It killed him though because the kid still looked remorseful. None of this was his fault and he thought he had cleared this up yesterday morning. But it appeared that that burden of self-loathing was harder to defuse than he had originally guessed.

Levi stared at Eren for a long moment who was staring at his hands which were folded in his lap. It was gathering again; that doubt and anguish and it was clouding fast. With a heavy sigh, the adviser pulled out his cellphone and shot the kid a text when no one was looking.

Feeling his phone vibrate in his inside breast pocket, the photo editor removed the device from its confines. Unlocking the screen, he saw the message that instantly put a small fragile smile on his face. Even in situations like these, Levi was still thinking about him. The man could have been caught by another faculty member but he sent Eren the text anyway.

LEVI: This isn't your fault. Please understand that Eren. You've done nothing wrong and you are still just as important to the team as you were before. Nothing has changed.

Not trusting himself enough to look up at Levi, Eren quickly responded then slipped the phone back into its pocket.

EREN: I know it isn't but I still feel kinda bad. Thanks Levi. Love you.

The last two words hit the professor harder than they had the day before. It felt good to see that phrase paired with his name and he wanted so desperately to excuse him and Eren for a minute just so that he could drag them into a secluded hallway or room and reaffirm that shared affection. As he contemplated doing just that, Levi was stirred from his thoughts by Shadis's sudden appearance at his side. Flinching when the man sat down, the adviser slipped his phone into his jacket pocket.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," Keith said while undoing the single button of his black suit blazer. "You're third to present, right after Ramirez from Santa Cruz."

"Sorry, I ducked out earlier. My head's been hurting. I'm presenting for sports photography, right?" Levi asked, noticing out of the corner of his eye when Eren tensed up when he mentioned the category.

"Yeah, and sports feature. They're bundled together this year."

"What are you handling?"

"Street photography and commercial landscape portraiture."

Again, Eren winced when the other category he was entered in was vocalized. It didn't make any sense to Levi why the kid was so tense. He had more talent than the majority of the other student photographers and the adviser was not one to show favoritism. When the young man had first enrolled in the journalism program at UCSB, Levi had made a point of knocking the kids' ego down a couple of pegs while simultaneously tearing him a new one for every out of focus, grainy, or washed out photo he turned in. The man was ruthless and, at one point, he was certain that Eren hated him; at least to some degree. 

But over the last few years, the boy had grown exponentially. He had a natural talent that, if he had been in the program when Levi was a student, would have landed him in the mans' cross-hairs. So it was ridiculous for Eren to be as nervous as he was. And it was beginning to irk him.

"Any idea what's wrong with Jaeger?" Shadis asked in a low hushed tone so that only the shorter man next to him could hear. "I thought you said he was doing better?"

Squaring his jaw with a frustrated sigh, Levi felt his shoulders and patience drop with the exhale. "He's getting wrapped up in his head again."

"You sound upset," his colleague pried, arching a single confused brow.

"That's because I thought that, after three years, we had gotten past this." Rising from his seat, Levi fixed his blazer then shoved both hands into the pockets of his slacks. "If you'd excuse me, there's a brat that needs tending to."

"Go easy on the kid, Levi," Shadis warned with mild trepidation. "You know he admires you."

"Yeah, I know. Why else do you think I'd be annoyed?"

Before Keith could mount a counter-argument, the adviser made his way around the table. Eren had turned away from eyeing him a while ago, after baldy had mentioned the landscape portraiture competition. However, the brunette was still on edge. He was trying to make conversation with Jean and Marco but couldn't pay attention to what they were saying long enough to form complete thoughts.

Stopping to the left of the kids' seat, Levi waited for him to look up. When Eren all but ignored his presence, the man clicked his tongue; the scowl on his face deepening. Despite his vast capacity for patience, Levi was not one to be brushed off in such a manner. So, with all the loving kindness he could spare, Levi lifted a hand to deliver a firm smack to the back of the kids' head.

"Fucking Christ!" Eren shouted, turning in his seat to chew out whoever had been dumb enough to hit him that hard. "What the hell do you--" His words halted in place when his gaze met the stormy steel blue eyes bearing down on him. "Le--"

"Get up," Levi scowled. 

It wasn't a request. It was a demand. Knowing from experience that it was better to obey than rebel when the man was wearing that particular expression, Eren excused himself from the conversation and got up. Levi didn't say a word. He remained quiet as they walked to the bar--not even sparing the brunette a sideways glance. It was unnerving to see him so serious. The only time Eren saw that look on his face was when he was about to tear into someone. His exterior appearance may have been calm and collected but there was a heated pulse of agitation that hummed beneath his skin. The brunette knew that he was in trouble or, at least, he had found some way to piss Levi off without even saying a word. 

Choking back the mounting nerves in his throat as they stopped at the high-gloss polished mahogany bar, Eren could feel a chill race along his spine. 'This isn't going to be pretty.'

"Drink?" Levi asked pointedly, his eyes fixed on the selection of spirits stacked on the shelves behind the bar.

"Anything's fine."

Another sigh ripped past his lips just as the bartender came over to take their order. The man was tall, had an athletic physique, dark tanned skin, and well-groomed black curls that looked too soft to belong to any man. His deep honey eyes glanced over Eren for a brief moment before locking in on Levi. It didn't help that Eren had to keep an eye on the women that were staring at the adviser. Now he had to watch out for men too. He knew the guy was attractive; hell he could make anyone crumble with that devastating smile and fierce gaze. But this was ridiculous.

"Hey there," the man flashed Levi a sly smile. "What can I do you for?"

"Two Maker's Mark in snifters and keep it neat."

Giving a curt nod, the man turned away briefly as he removed two short-stemmed glasses and the bottled of bourbon. Glancing between them as he sat the drinks down in front of them--taking Levi's card when it was handed to him--the man chuckled.

"You look like you've had a hard day, kid," the bartender said to Eren. "I've worked this event for three years and the only time a professor buys their student a drink is when they're in the pits."

Before Eren could answer, Levi did so for him. "You'd do well to mind your own business and to stop eyeing customers like they're a piece of meat." Shoving away from the bar with his drink in hand, the adviser cracked a smug smirk at the man. "Thanks for the drink. Keep the change."

Taking a brief glance at his wrist watch, Levi directed them toward a pair of doors leading into a quiet hallway. For the first time since the kid had come to terms with his feelings two years ago, Eren wanted to get as far away from the adviser as he could. He couldn't read the look in Levi's eye and that scared him more than any screw up or scolding. Leaning against the wall opposite of the man, the brunette took slow sips from the bourbon that swirled in the ballooned glass. With the way the atmosphere was building, Eren did not dare speak first.

"Out with it," Levi voiced firmly, his gaze cast down as he took a long appreciative drink. "You've been on edge all day and now you look like you're going to be physically sick."

"Levi--"

"If you don't tell me now, I'll drag it out of you later."

It was a promise--not a warning--and Eren knew better than to test him. He had seen what happens when people call Levi's bluffs and it never ended well; mostly because the man always won. Running his tongue across the edge of his top row of teeth, the young man tried assembling his thoughts before voicing them. Thankfully, his adviser was feeling kind and allowed him to take his time. The older man watched him carefully through his thick lashes as he mulled over the words rushing through his head. When he was ready, the kid looked up.

"I'm pissed," Eren began, struggling for a brief moment before he continued. "And disappointed."

"No shit. Who at?"

"Myself."

"Why?" Levi's expression remained impassive but there was a spark of recognition.

"I let the team down. I get that there was nothing I could do about it and that it was the committee's decision but I just," he paused. "I just fucking hate how everything turned out. Jean is exhausted and is treading on eggshells because he's worried I might freak out again and Marco is being too nice; I liked it better when he tried to mess with me. Ever since the incident, I've been catching people looking at me, probably trying to figure out if I'm just an attention whore or mentally unstable. It's annoying and it pisses me off that I couldn't be the person my team needed me to be."

Waiting a moment, Levi swirled the dark caramel liquor in his glass then took a sip. "You done?" he asked arching an unimpressed brow.

"Yes."

"Good, because now you are going to shut up and listen to me. You are a control freak Eren Jaeger. You are stubborn, pessimistic, and you're impossible to get through to. I have spent the better half of three years trying to break you of your bad habits and this," he said, eyes suddenly ablaze. "This shit stops tonight. You are a talented, hardworking young man with more potential in his fucking finger than half of these kids combine. What the fuck does it matter if they stare at you? It's not like you're taking them to bed so why should you care what they think?"

"Levi, I--"

"No," Levi snapped, pushing away from the wall. Walking up to him, the adviser took his hand that was holding his drink and shoved the pointed index finger into Eren's chest; effectively pinning him to the wall. "No, you don't say a word. Right now it's my turn. You seriously think you're the only person to go through what you're experiencing? When I was your age, I couldn't walk down the hall without someone cursing my name or glaring daggers into my back. The fact that I was gay didn't help either. I was targeted by anyone who had a bone to pick with the newspaper. Every night, I would come back to my dorm and there'd be some kind of hate mail or threat slipped under the door. No one was really on my side but even I managed."

"So Farlan and Isabel don't count?" Eren countered, a small glare flickering behind his eyes.

"They didn't live on campus, brat. And yeah, they did count which is exactly my point. I let them in. You, on the other hand, actively keep everyone away."

"I'm not pushing anyone away."

"But you aren't letting them in either," Levi said pointedly as he pressed Eren as far up against the wall as was possible. "You had plenty of chances to talk to someone today. Jean has good fucking reason to worry so don't you dare accuse him. Maybe if you talked to him instead of bottling everything up until you explode, he'd have less to be concerned about."

"I didn't want to talk to Jean about it," Eren growled.

"Then what about me?" Levi asked and Eren could see the hurt in his eyes. "I told you to trust me. I promised you that I would be there no matter what and yet you still decided to keep it to yourself. A promise isn't something I take lightly. What does it take with you? When will you understand that you don't have to handle all this pressure by yourself because it wasn't yours to carry in the first place. You are part of a team," Levi said, stressing the last word. "Moreover, you have friends that came to study at UCSB because they wanted to be in the same program and school as you. Connie, Sasha, Jean... For fuck's sake, even Mikasa came to the west coast and she hates California."

At some point, probably when Levi hadn't been looking, Eren had begun to cry. It wasn't the same violent sobbing as that morning they shared together or the panicked tears that came after the accident. These were a combination of anger, pain, and guilt--not for himself but for what he had done. Little by little, Levi's words were sinking in. It had taken him nearly losing his temper to do, but there was finally a break in the vicious cycle.

Setting both his and Eren's glasses down on the floor, Levi reached up and held the kids' face in his hands. "You aren't alone, Eren. You never were and never will be. I may be pissed right now but it doesn't change anything. But just because I'm crazy about you doesn't mean I won't kick your ass when you start acting like an idiot."

"Pretty harsh words considering you may kinda love me," Eren chuckled then looked down at their shoes. "I know you're here for me but I'm used to handling this on my own. You can't expect my personality to do a total one-eighty overnight. I'm sorry."

"That needs to stop too," Levi smirked as he thumbed away the tears. "I don't want your apologies. And I know you can't change overnight but I never asked you to. I asked you try. I told you, even before we were together, that if you just needed someone to sit in total silence with that I wouldn't mind. It all comes back to trust though."

"I do trust you, Levi. Even now, when all I wanted to do a second ago was punch you square in jaw, I can still understand that you're doing this because you care."

There was a burning painful tightening sensation that spread through Levi's chest when his gaze caught Eren's. He could see the turmoil dissipating only to be replaced by a dejected sort of affection that teetered on melancholy. This trip had worn the kid down in more ways than he was prepared for and had finally, at long last, reached his limit. He, and Levi had both reached their limit.

Pulling the brunette down just enough to reach, Levi kissed him sweetly; lacing his fingers into those soft waves of chestnut brown. They were hopeless; a case better saved and offered to Saint Jude because they shouldn't be left to their own devices. These words that were warring in Levi's heart battle with the rationality that kept them silent. It was too soon to feel this way. Too soon to feel his chest ache when Eren surrendered control to him and let the full weight of his head rest in the man's hands while he parted his lips in quiet consent. It was too soon to feel this attached even though the electricity shooting from the boys hand made his heart flutter, his soul scream, and his blood burn in his veins. It was too soon but Levi felt his judgement snap, the floodgates open, and his pulse soar.

Unable to hold back, the dark-haired man pushed Eren up against the wall, holding him in place with the force of his own body. Mouths locked and hands seeking skin, they drowned in each other--unable to quell the fire burning between them. Levi had trailed to Eren's neck and placed hot hungry kisses wherever his lips found flesh. He wanted so badly to bite him; to mark the young man as his own. To scorch a mark into his delicious skin that would be proof of their bond. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't when the whole of California's top universities was watching them.

Kissing Eren one last time, long enough that he would still be able to taste him on his lips later, Levi pulled away enough so that his lips could brush the kids' ear. "I love you."

If it hadn't been for the man holding him up, Eren would have collapsed. "What happened to waiting until you were sure?"

"I waited and now I'm sure of it."

Swallowing hard, Eren pressed his forehead against Levi's. "Say it again?" He had to be sure this was real. "Please?"

"I," Levi choked as he pulled away and kissed the top of Eren's head before looking him in the eyes, "love you. You, Eren Jaeger, who will likely be the death of me."

Eren smiled brightly past the few tears that had managed to break through. "I won't be that bad. I promise."

"Don't say that if you don't mean it."

"I do," he said tilting his head so that he could look at Levi in that close intimate space; noses touching and breath mingling. "It may not be an immediate thing but I promise to let you in. But I'm not letting go of you now. You're mine, okay?"

"That's fine," Levi smirked. "You're adorable when you get jealous."

"And you're pretty hot when you're pissed off."

Smiling, Levi kissed his nose then lips. "You really are something else."

"Shut up, you know you love me."

"Yeah, you got me there."

Neither of them wanted to let go; to surrender this sweet moment to the world outside those doors. But Levi's phone was vibrating in his pocket and the first speaker was already giving the first awards of the night. Breathing in steadily, the dark-haired man felt his skin tingle at the recognition of Eren's scent. This feeling was so powerful, it had already overwhelmed him before he could put up a fight. It was any wonder what he would do once they got back to Santa Barbara. But as quickly as he had lost control, he reigned it back in. 

Answering the phone the second time it sounded in his breast pocket, a small frown formed on the advisers' face. As Shadis chewed Levi out and "suggested" that they get back to their seats, Eren placed quiet whisper soft kisses on his cheeks while weaving his hand together with the one Levi had hanging at his side. Relaxing into the touch, the older man gently squeezed the warm hand that had slipped into his. Nodding along and grunting his replies, Levi closed the phone a moment later.

"I guess this means we have to go back," Eren said quietly while he stared at their joined hands.

"Hey," Levi breathed forcing the kid to look at him with his hand pushing Eren's chin up until their eyes met. "It's not like I won't see you after the awards ceremony."

"I know but we don't know when we'll have another chance like this. Midterms are coming up and--"

"So is spring break. When have I not made the time for you, Eren? The only difference between what we were doing before and what we will be doing when we get home is that I'll be taking you out as my partner; not just a student. But we have to get through this last event and the drive home."

"Speaking of," Eren said as they parted and slowly walked toward the doors. "Jean told me that you're riding with Shadis on the way back."

"Yeah, I've got to go over a few things with him."

"Such as...?"

"That," Levi said kissing him briefly before opening one of the metal doors, "is a conversation for later. Go sit down and I'll talk to you in a bit."

"Right."

And just like that, the impassive mask returned to Levi's face as he turned away to head for the row of professors sitting to the right of the podium. Moving in the opposite direction, Eren let his own facade drop down like a shield to guard his heart; their hearts. He knew it wouldn't quite be enough to throw Jean off his trail, but the expression of false irritation fooled everyone else and that was enough. He already planned on talking to his friend when they got back. Even if it made him sick with anxiety, Eren wanted to tell Jean about Levi, about everything that had been going on with Grisha, and about how the nightmares wouldn't stop. Levi was right, he hadn't let anyone in but he was ready to now. 'One more time,' he repeated in his head. 'It'll be alright.'

"Everything alright?" Jean said in a low hushed voice once Eren got situated at the table. "You were gone for a while. I was starting to consider sending a search party."

"Yeah, it's cool. Levi just wanted to check in on me and see how I was holding out."

"In private?"

"I'll tell you later Jean," Eren turned to look him in the eyes. "Promise."

Nodding without another word, Jean turned his attention to the front of the room as Levi took control of the podium. He watched the man do a scan of the room--his gaze lingering just long enough on Eren to tell the photographer what he wanted to know. It was obvious that the two were attracted to each other but that look was all it took. Eren and Levi were a thing. Somewhere between the accident and now, they had come clean with one another. 

Yet, although Jean was genuinely happy for his friend, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear for their future together. They were professor and student and, while both were consenting adults, there were still rules that must be observed. If they weren't careful, the consequences could be astronomical. It was lucky that Marco was a grad student and not the broadcasting instructor otherwise Jean would have been in the same boat as Eren.

At the front, Levi first awarded the five students who had earned honorable mentions in sports photography. Next he handed fourth place over to Jasime Navarro from the Daily Bruin at UCLA, third to Mohammad Jhaveri from the Daily Nexus at UCSB, and second to Liza Kumar from the Daily Californian at UC Berkeley. After the female photographer came up to claim her award, the man looked back down at the last name. There was a brief--near unnoticeable--pause as the corners of his lips turned up into a small smile. Clearing his throat, Levi lifted his gaze.

"Lastly, first place for sports photography goes to Eren Jaeger from UC Santa Barbara," Levi said, beaming brightly on the inside as he continued. "Judges comments are 'exceptional use of depth of field, motion, and natural lighting. Demonstrates full mastery of his field and shows ambition to capture the perfect shot.'"

The man almost choked on the words as he read them. He couldn't be more proud than he was at that moment. He remembered the day Eren had taken that shot. It was a dismal day to be photographing outside; especially for sports. The kid had also been dead tired and fighting his depression, yet still he pulled it together and took a phenomenal shot. As the massive screen on the wall opposite of the podium lit up with the winning shot, Levi allowed some of his smile to break through.

As Eren made his way to the front, Levi gave the kid his plaque, shook his hand, and leaned in to whisper, "Good job kid. I'm proud of you."

The brunette killed the blush he felt trying to surface before it could make itself known. They were in front of eight-hundred plus people whose focus was solely on him. Eren could only spare Levi a warm smile before he turned and made his way back to his seat.

\------------------------------------------

After the awards ceremony had wrapped up, everyone had said their goodbyes then split to head to their cars before traffic became any worse than what it was. Eren watched as Levi slid into Shadis's black Jeep Wrangler Sahara. It would be suspicious if he stared anymore than a second so he turned away to open his door. When he did, he saw Jean looking at him, completely expressionless, from across the top of the roof. The brunette knew that look. It was the one he had when the guy knew exactly what was going on but wanted to give his friend the opportunity to say it first.

"Yeah," Eren sighed as he admitted defeat. "It's like that."

"Hmmm," Jean hummed thoughtfully, quirking a brow. "Is it mutual? What you feel, that is."

Smiling shyly, the brunette nodded. "It is."

"Good. You can tell me the rest when we get back. Now get in loser because the sun is going down and my eyesight isn't getting any better."

"Your eyes would be shit even if it daytime Jean."

"Ha!" Jean laughed as he slid inside and shut the door. "And yet you trust me enough to get us home. That's some backwards logic dude."

\---------------------------------------------

The first two hours of the drive had passed in a blink. After stopping in Monterey for a quick bite, the caravan of cars headed south toward Santa Barbara. As the full moon followed them as they drove down the coastline--slowly arching across the sky--the passengers in the orange Kia began to drift off, one by one. First it was Sasha who had gone into a food coma almost immediately after their early dinner. Next was Connie. He slumped against her, his head atop her unruly brown hair, with his mouth cracked open allowing small snores to escape. 

Eren did his best to stay awake so that he could keep Jean company. He knew the guy hated driving at night because his vision was poorer than most. It also didn't help that the marine layer was already rolling in. Up ahead, Jean spotted Keith's directional signaling them to take the next turn that would connect them with the canyon road. It would take longer since the reroute would lead them away from the Pacific Coast Highway i.e the only direct path back to Santa Barbara. However, with the density of the fog, it was the smarter choice. Plus, if they got lucky, nobody would be traveling that late and they'd make up for the lost time. One could only hope.

Driving along the moonlit road that had painted the grassy hills silver, Jean focused on the road before him. Eren had passed out a half hour ago with his face happily smushed against the window. The cabin was quiet except for Chris Martin's mellow vocals as he sang Coldplay's "Midnight." Humming along and murmuring some words here and there, he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel in unison with the drums. Squinting vaguely, he watched as the fog that was supposed to be on the other side of the mountains made it's way over the tall peaks and rolled down to meet the road.

Slowing his speed, Jean took a moment to calm down. It was 9:00 in the evening and, despite the intensity of the full moon's light, the surroundings were getting darker. Now he had fog to deal with. Keeping the car steady, Jean wiped his hands one at a time as they began to clam up and sweat. Panicking wouldn't do anyone any good and he had three other people in the car that had trusted him with driving home. At least they weren't by the coast otherwise they'd be at risk for flying off into the ocean. His eyesight wasn't horrible but it was enough to make him nervous when the elements came together like they were now.

In that moment though, a flash of silver and blue came out from the blind spot on his left-hand side. It didn't take more than a moment to recognize the blue Flex nor the driver at the wheel. Marco really was his lifeguard because he always seemed to know when to show up. Casually looking ahead, he kept his speed matched with Jean's so that they were cruising along together. Most of the cars in their caravan had already gone ahead the moment Jean had slowed down. So it was just them now, moving side by side, separated by what felt like half a world's length, yet connected in a way that made the distance seem much smaller.

Glancing away for a brief moment as they pulled up to a stoplight, Jean took the opportunity to admire the brunette from afar. The man was fiddling around with his phone, probably picking the next song he wanted to listen to. Ymir had fallen asleep with her seat reclined as far back as it would go which left Marco in plain view. A moment later, Jean's phone vibrated in the cupholder. A smile cracked over Jean's face when he saw who the sender was.

MARCO: What are you listening to?

JEAN: What, you wanna play music tag?

MARCO: Maybe. Okay, yes. Quick babe, before the light changes.

JEAN: Coldplay's Ghost Stories album. You?

MARCO: LoL. How fitting. Oh Wonder over here; their white album.

JEAN: Got it.

MARCO: Thanks for the recommendation. See you when we get home.

JEAN: No prob. Love you.

MARCO: Love you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As athletic as Marco may be, Jean is actually more of an outdoorsman than his lover. He plays more sports, likes to go camping for weeks at a time, has traveled to over 17 different countries, and has a map hanging in his room with blue dots marking the mountains he's climbed and red dots for the one's he has yet to attempt. Jean even bought his trooper specifically for its all-wheel drive and solid metal frame in case he ran into some trouble while camping during the winter. So here is his wanderlust inspired playlist for when he decides to hit the road less traveled. Kudos to anyone who recognizes the place he got the setlist title from. ;)
> 
>  
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> *Songs Of The Open Road*
> 
> -"Marching Bands Of Manhattan" by Death Cab for Cutie  
> -"Soul Meets" Body" by Death Cab for Cutie  
> -"How Can You Swallow So Much Sleep" by Bombay Bicycle Club  
> -"Let's Get Lost" by Beck feat. Bat For Lashes  
> -"What's Left Of The Flag" by Flogging Molly  
> -"Devils Dance Floor" by Flogging Molly  
> -"Salty Dog" by Flogging Molly  
> -"If I ever Leave This World Alive" by Flogging Molly  
> -"Beggarman" by Gaelic Storm  
> -"Sight Of Land" by Gaelic Storm  
> -"Scalliwag" by Gaelic Storm  
> -"The Schooner Lake Set" by Gaelic Storm  
> -"Cats And Dogs" by The Head and The Heart  
> -"Down In The Valley" by The Head and The Heart  
> -"In A Week" by Hozier feat. Karen Cowley  
> -"Arms Of A Thief" by Iron & Wine  
> -"Boy With A Coin" by Iron & Wine  
> -"Ophelia" by The Lumineers  
> -"Hey Ho" by The Lumineers  
> -"Charlie Boy" by The Lumineers  
> -"Into The Wild" by LP  
> -"Renegades" by X Ambassadors  
> -"All I Believe In" by The Magic Numbers  
> -"Missed The Boat" by Modest Mouse  
> -"The World At Large" by Modest Mouse  
> -"Float On" by Modest Mouse  
> -"Satin In A Coffin" by Modest Mouse  
> -"Blame It On The Tetons" by Modest Mouse  
> -"One Chance" by Modest Mouse  
> -"The Good Times Are Killing Me" by Modest Mouse  
> -"Little Lion Man" by Mumford & Sons  
> -"Winter Winds" by Mumford & Sons  
> -"The Cave" by Mumford & Sons  
> -"Weightless" by Nada Surf  
> -"Beautiful Beat" by Nada Surf  
> -"Mountain Sound" by Of Monsters and Men  
> -"Little Talks" by Of Monsters and Men  
> -"Champagne Supernova" by Oasis  
> -"Turn The Dirt Over" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Black Dirt" by Sea Wolf  
> -"You're A Wolf" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Blue Stockings" by Sea Wolf  
> -"In Nothing" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Priscilla" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Kasper" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Saint Catherine Street" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Changing Seasons" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Dear Fellow Traveller" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Whirlpool" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Vagabond" by Wolfmother  
> -"Young Blood" by The Naked and Famous  
> -"Sleepyhead" by Passion Pit  
> -"The Reeling" by Passion Pit  
> -"Sweet Disposition" by Temper Trap


	10. Keep It Electric

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi and Eren confront the challenges their relationship presents head on, Marco and Jean struggle to find time to spend with each other as midterms loom, and part of Jean's past comes back to haunt him...
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> \----FUN FACT!: While Hanji most certainly is a bit strange in the head, this version of the mad scientist is an homage to my astronomy professor from my undergrad years. Everything from falling off the desk to the balloon in the pocket is truth applied to the fictitious Hanji Zoe. My professor also made a point of wearing a different science related graphic t-shirt everyday.
> 
> \----SHOUT OUT!: I just wanted to thank everyone for reading this fic; seriously, you guys are pretty cool. But I would like to give special thanks to my good friend Neko at SimplyTsundere for all your love and support as well as FunnyPoeple for your words of encouragement and for compiling the playlists for me. I will be including the links to those playlists at the end of every chapter, hopefully starting with chapter twelve (12).

"Not to freak you out, but every second of every day, the atoms in your body are literally trying to explode," Hanji grinned wildly at the front of the planetarium lecture room. Scanning the faces staring back at her, her expression turned devious. "Good luck sleeping tonight."

The woman was certifiably insane. Brilliant but still crazy. She was always running back and forth during class, trying to demonstrate certain parts of the class lecture. One afternoon, she trying to illustrate the problem with equants and epicycles but wound up showing them Newtons theory of gravity when she fell off of her desk when the stringed ball she used to represent Saturn smacked her in the eye. Luckily her glasses took the brunt of the attack.

Placing both hands on the firm surface of her desk, she leaned forward then pushed away while simultaneously pulling out the smart pen to write on the interactive whiteboard. Like all things Hanji, her writing was a curious case of cursive, font, and some other kind of chicken scratch that left students playing "What Letter Is That Anyway?" As she drew a diagram of an atom and labelled the sections, the brunette continued she lecture.

"However, do not fear because the atoms in our bodies are held together by what scientists call 'Weak Nuclear Force.' We cannot feel this tugging and pushing that is constantly working to hold our cells together, but without it, we would cease to exist in physical form. Which leads me to our next section I like to call," she paused and swiped her hand to the right to reveal the next slide, "'I'm Not Touching You.' Despite what you think, you have never touched another human being or any other object, for that matter, because the electrons in an atom simply will not allow it. Now just let that sink in."

A half hour later, class was dismissed. Hanji lingered, sitting atop her desk in her "I'm Down With Gravity" t-shirt, jeans, and chucks that could have disguised her as a student. Answering the questions some students had held for the end of the lecture, the brunette caught Levi out of the corner of her eye when she had glanced up to look over someone's revised homework. He didn't look like he was in a particularly good mood but at least it wasn't as bad as the expression he had on his face the day he left for San Francisco. Wrapping things up quickly, she told the students that just wanted to mingle to see her during her office hours or in at the Lagoon during her tutoring hours.

Grabbing her light gray hoodie and razor scooter, Hanji sauntered over to where Levi had been sitting; reclined back in one of the many cushy seats with the back straightened all the way back. Smiling, she tapped the bottom of his boot with the scuffed rubber toe of her black hightops. It was plain as day that he had run himself ragged; one of the many reasons she couldn't be a journalist. She much preferred sipping her coffee while watching galaxies slowly collide. But Levi had always been an active guy with a competitive streak so his chosen field suited him, just not his sleeping regiment.

"Sorry Le, but we got to scram before Professor Malory's two-thirty class starts," she said, knocking his foot again.

Snapping to attention, he groaned while combing a hand through his smooth black hair. "Fuck, these seats are comfortable. How the hell do kids stay awake during your lectures?"

"I like to think they find my class compelling and interesting enough not to fall asleep," she said flatly then, slowly, the corners of her lips turned upward into a sly smirk as she pulled a deflated black balloon out of her jacket pocket. "I also happen punish any sleepers with a jolt of static to their neck."

"You know, that wasn't funny in high school and it isn't now," Levi scowled as they made their way to the door. When he pushed the entrance open, he was temporarily blinded by the intense sunlight. "Jesus," he scowled, cursing under his breath.

Hanji just chuckled as she watched through her transition lenses as her friend tried to shield his eyes until they had adjusted. "So what's got your goat? You don't look like you're in any particular mood to talk but you still came around. Tell me now and of your own volition before I drag it out of you."

"How's Moblit and the kids?" Levi asked, trying to change the subject.

"He'll be back from paternity leave on Monday. Isaac is going to be in a school play over spring break and Marie just started teething. Now spill it," Hanji said with emphasis on the final words, making them a command.

It was strange watching his friend talk so fondly about her budding family then switch straight over to the analytical friend she was famed to be. Levi had known the woman since their freshman year at El Camino Real high school. Because he was so unsociable and she was too much for anyone else to handle, the two were forced to be lab partners in biology. Despite the initial resistance from him in the beginning, they became close friends by the end of the second month. 

She was bat shit crazy, full of energy, and a riot to talk to but knew when to calm down and be serious. He was sarcastic to a fault, couldn't be bothered to waste energy caring about the stupidity of others, and had a biting sense of humor that was just as wicked as hers. Together, Levi and Hanji made one complete lunatic. They were an oddball pairing yet perfectly matched. He was even the Man of Honor at her wedding four years ago and was named godfather to both her children.

As much as they irritated each other, they couldn't help but love one another. And with that love came a sense of trust and security which was why only she knew his deeper, darker secrets and he hers. It was mutually assured destruction but both of them knew they'd never hit that button.

Scooting alongside Levi as they walked across the campus back to her office by the Lagoon, Hanji carried on a casual conversation until they reached her building. Waving hello to Nile, who was reclining back in his chair chatting with his fellow marine biology professor Oluo, Hanji meandered into her office. She was the chair head of the physical sciences and physics department so her space was larger than the others. 

Folding the scooter in half, she propped it against the right wall that was lined from floor to ceiling with book shelves; shelves that had been filled near past their bursting point with books on molecular biology, astronomy, every field of physics imaginable--especially astrophysics, marine biology, anatomy, radioactivity, and your typical French and Italian philosophical works. The papers atop her desk were only mildly messy when compared to her book collection. Framing the wooden desktop were photo's of her family, a framed image of her and Moblit on their wedding day Levi had taken, a marshmallow monster Isaac had made in his daycare class last year, and a chrome Newton's Cradle that she only activated while she was grading papers or trying to draft a speech for some committee meeting.

Plopping down in the padded leather armchair opposite of his friend, Levi turned to look at the old Polaroids that adorned the wall above her new Mac. Set up in chronological order from their first summer together to their camping trip last spring before Hanji had Marie, the pictures told the story of her life; of his life shared with her. Long nights spent chasing ghouls in supposedly "haunted" houses. Their month long trek through Yosemite. The duo's first college party that ended with them laughing side by side in a holding cell together while they waited for Erwin to bail them out. That afternoon Moblit got down on one knee after the friend group had finished a brutal run down the Pacuare River in Costa Rica. Hanji had been flung from the boat and Moblit nearly had a panic attack but was in charge of steering the raft so it had fallen on Levi to wrestle her out of the water. The look on her face when they paddled to shore just so that he could propose--probably before she was killed by a bear or her own curiosity--replaced any exhaustion she had shown before.

Following the adventures of their youth and young adulthood were images of domesticated bliss. Snapshots of the couples first home in Santa Barbara. Images of Hanji holding her son for the first time with the kids' father sobbing next to her. Levi attempting to change a diaper--treating the task as if it were the equivalent of cleaning out nuclear waste. Erwin sleeping on the couch on Superbowl Sunday with Isaac passed out on his "uncles" lap; his Cheeto stained cheeks and fingers rubbing against the mans' Bronco's jersey. The first image of baby Marie in her mothers stomach; her little hand throwing up the rock on sign. Right next to it was a close up of Hanji's flushed face gazing happily down at her little girl who was swaddled and sound asleep in her arms.

Had they really lived long enough to experience all of this? How was it even possible when it felt as if it were only yesterday that they had graduated from Berkeley; Levi for the first time and Hanji for the second time. She always was the intellectual show off but in the most loving of ways.

"Freaky huh, how long it's been since Mr. Moreno's biology class," the woman smiled softly voicing the words had just been thinking. "It feels like a lifetime ago but I can still remember that look on your face when I asked you to let me dissect the frog."

"I thought I'd be sick watching you poke around that thing's chest," he chuckled.

Fully aware that he wouldn't start the real conversation unless she made him, Hanji folded her arms tightly on top of the desk then leaned forward. "Levi, what happened? You haven't been the same since you came back and it's starting to worry me. Eld told me you were called into a meeting with Keith and President Burke. What's going on that you aren't telling me about?"

Squaring his jaw with a light sigh, Levi keep his gaze down. "You remember that brat student of mine right?"

"Yeah, Jaeger; the one with the crazy eyes. What about him?" she asked. When the man didn't speak her suspicions grew until he looked up with a pitiful expression. "Don't tell me... Come on Levi, correct me here because I know that look and that look means trouble."

"We're dating."

"Levi Benjamin Ackerman!" Hanji shouted, thankful in that moment that she had remembered, for once, to close the door. "You could get fired over this! Do you have any idea what kind of hell you could bring down on yourself?!"

"I am well aware of the consequences Hanji. For fucks sake, I'm a grown man. You don't need to lecture me so stop your shrieking."

"Shrieking? I'll show you God damn shrieking!"

"Fucking hell Hanji, I love him!" Levi yelled, flushed with anger and his own brand of agony that cropped up more and more since he had come back. "I can't stop myself. I can't and I would give this up if it meant having a chance at happiness. You're supposed to know me better than anyone. Better than Farlan even. You should know how long I've held out."

The truth was that she did know better than anyone, better than his college buddies, the private hell he had endured since high school; since he came out and was beaten down for it. Levi had never fallen in love. He didn't trust anyone enough to hand his heart over so haphazardly. The few times the man had invested any shred of trust in a romantic partner, he had been used and taken advantage of until he just couldn't do it anymore. He was an old man at twenty-five. Everyone was a potential threat so he locked his heart away, sealed up his longing to be loved, and carried on as if he felt nothing. Not even the ground moving beneath him could have shook him free. But this kid had done what years of her struggling with Levi's restraints could not accomplish. He had gotten the man to feel again.

Hanji couldn't believe how blind she had been. It's not like this had happened overnight. No, Eren had been working his way under Levi's skin for years now without either of them knowing it. At first, she remembered feeling pity for the kid because he, more than anyone, seemed to find himself on Levi's shit list more often than not. Time and time again the man would storm into her office, ignoring whatever she was doing, and would go off on a rant about how "the shitty brat won't listen to a damn thing anyone says" or how he purposefully ignored his advice. 

Yet somewhere along the line, Levi stopped blazing into her office and the rants had lulled. Something had clicked between them. From that point on, whenever Levi wasn't in class or in his office, he was usually out with Eren. There were the rare occasions when they weren't at each others side but those were far and few. Hanji laughed at herself. At Levi and Eren for how stupid they were being and, again, at her unwillingness to stop them. 'I love him!' Levi yelling at the top of his lungs rang in her ears. He had never screamed at her before. He had never looked so helpless either. 

"This is real," she murmured, staring at him as it sank in. "You love him."

"I do." Levi sniffed.

She choked when she heard the sound. Not only had Eren gotten him to live again, but the kid had gotten Levi as close to tears as he had been since they were teenagers. What magic had the young man worked on her friend to make him this vulnerable; this...human. Reaching across the desk, Hanji grabbed hold of one of Levi's hands that sat motionless on his thighs. Squeezing it gently, she waited for him to look up. When he did, she could see him fighting to hold everything in.

"Okay," she said softly with the same kindness she regarded him with whenever he was hurting. "I understand it now. It doesn't change the fact that this is a risky game you two are playing but, I'm here for you. You're family Le. I got your back no matter what."

Nodding, Levi clear his throat, nearly coughing on his heightened emotions and the tears that he forced back. "Thanks. I would have told you sooner if I had figured it out before the trip. But I was caught off guard. And now Keith is in trouble and Burke is being the same haggard witch she's always been. You think she'd be more appreciative of the prestige my department brings to the school."

"Wait, what happened with Keith?"

"He took my side. Of course he isn't happy that I'm intimately involved with a student and chewed me out worse than Burke did but he decided to take over for any class audits and independent studies Eren is taking with me instead of having me written up. The witch, however, is demanding a reevaluation and for a thorough investigation to ensure that I am not receiving any sexual advances from a student for higher marks."

"You knew they would do that though."

"I know but it pisses me off. This whole situation is fucked and I should be the adult here and cut things off but I can't, Hanji. I just...every time I look at him I can feel my heart beat out of my chest. I feel like I'm drowning but I don't want to come up for air. You know?"

Shrugging with a small smile, she nodded. "You love him. It figures that, with your luck, you'd fall for a career hazard."

"Hanji," Levi warned.

"I'm just trying to lighten the mood. Sorry Tiny Tim for knocking your crutches out from under you." Laughing when he did, the brunette let her head drop to the wooden surface as they remained the way they were; smiling and anxious, just like their first night as dormmates. "Well, I guess the only thing you can do is clean your neck and wait. Do you have a plan in case they sac you?"

"Rob has been calling me nonstop for a while now asking me to come back as photo editor. If the worst were to happen, I told him I'd think about it."

"But isn't National Geographic based out of Washington D.C.? How would that be any better for you two?"

"It is but I told Rob my conditions for accepting the offer was that he would match the salary I'm being paid now and that I could work remotely from California for eighty percent of the year and take the assignments I want. He agreed so all I have to do is wait for the final word from the board to see if I'm staying or being let go."

"Those are some pretty steep conditions," Hanji smirked. "You're lucky you're as talented as you are and have a portfolio to back it up."

Allowing a brief chuckle, Levi shrugged easily; finally relaxing now that his secret was out. "So, what are you in the mood for today?"

"I'm kinda feeling tapas or maybe Peruvian. You?"

"Either is good."

"Then Peruvian it is. I'll drive," Hanji said, deciding on the restaurant for him. "Come on Antoinette. Let's get some food in you before the executioner comes for ya'."

\-----------------------------------------------------

It had almost been two weeks since JACCU and Jean had only had the time to hangout with Marco twice. Midterms were looming on the horizon so the photographer waking up each day to the trouble of figuring out how he was going to juggle five classes, his job at the Independent, and his study groups for astronomy, organic chemistry, and symbolic philosophy. Things were a mess and he wanted nothing more than to just curl up under his blankets and sleep it off. But that wasn't what adults did. So, as much as he loathed--in it's entirety--waking up early after only sleeping for three hours, Jean did what his schedule demanded of him. It was torture; complete and utter torture. But he was the one that signed up for the classes and told himself he could do them all in one go so this was his mess to deal with.

Jogging across campus, Jean chewed on the bagel in his mouth while fishing for the press badge that was somewhere in the front compartment of his backpack. Taking the steps of the communications building two at a time, he yanked the heavy glass door open with one fluid movement and slipped inside. There were three assignments he had yet to press the photo's for and tomorrow was print day. He knew he was cutting it close to the wire but it couldn't be helped. Slinging the press badge around his neck, Jean knocked on the door--holding up his ID when a fellow reporter opened the door. 

The moment he stepped inside, there were several different people yammering for his attention. Reiner needed the photo's from the swim meet so that he could place them and design the remainder of his page. Sasha needed names for the five student headshots in the Street Beat section. Connie wanted Jean to send him the final draft of his opinion piece on gender neutral bathrooms. And Eren had been waiting all morning to go over the final layout for the photo essay with him. 

The green-eyed editor had been grooming Jean to take over as photo editor the following semester because Eren had been selected to be the incoming managing editor since Hitch and Marlo were graduating in May. It was a terrifying notion but Eren knew he was capable and could keep up with his studies, especially since his EIC would be Krista. They already made a good team and, after their combine wins at JACCU, Keith and Levi had decided to nominate them for the positions. So, doing as they had been advised, they began to train their replacements.

"Sorry Eren, I overslept this morning," Jean apologized as he sat down in the chair next to the photo editor. "My study group ran late last night and I didn't get to bed until after four."

Glancing at the clock on the mac then to his friend, it was clear as day how concerned he was. "Dude, it's nine in the morning. How are you even functioning?"

"I don't even know anymore."

Jean could feel his eyes ache and strain from the power it took to keep his tired lids from closing. Yawning long and loud, he scooted closer to the desk and watched as his friend walked him through designing a photo essay for the Nexus. Unlike the paper he was on during his two years at community college, there were more rules, regulations, and expectations placed on the way the publication was put together at UCSB. It was a meticulous tedious process that required a scrutinizing eye. 

Naturally, Eren was a perfect match for the job. His OCD was almost as bad as Levi's but in a different way. Where the older man focused on cleanliness and balance, Eren nit-picked at the quality of color, clarity of the lines, and overall mood of an image. If any one of those was off, the photographer responsible for taking the picture would definitely hear about it. Soon, it would be Jean's responsibility to manage the photo quality and the fact that Eren would be the one judging his ability to critique other's was a frightening thought.

"Jean, you need to pay attention to what I'm doing here," the brunette chided as he tugged at his friends' ear. "We're all tired and run down but tomorrow is the first day of spring break so you can relax then."

"Bullshit," Jean muttered. "I can't relax tomorrow because it's your birthday. Plus, two of my professors decided to be assholes and assigned work for the break. As if studying for the midterms wasn't enough."

"I told you I don't have anything planned for tomorrow. I just want to sleep in and relax at home."

"Ain't happening," Jean said as he sat up. "We're doing something later whether you like it or not. It won't be anything big but we have to at least go out and get a drink."

Sighing, Eren narrowed his gaze while rolling his eyes. "Fine. But nothing crazy or extravagant. I just want some peace and quiet and to let this birthday pass by unnoticed."

"Right."

The photographer almost felt guilty because, little did his friend know, the entire department had organized a surprise party for him tomorrow night. Live music, a massive cake, and catering--all courtesy of Marlo, Hitch, and the Bott's. It had been a long time since Eren had gotten a chance to relax and things had only gotten worse since their return. His workload in the newsroom had increased two-fold and he was juggling three other classes; political science, astronomy, and sociology 3-gender relations and human sexuality. 

He was also on the outs with Levi after the man told him he had told Shadis about their relationship because it would have been worse if they tried to keep it a secret. Now everyone on ed board knew that they were dating which, for someone who is as reserved about their private life as Eren is, is not a good thing. The fact that the senior editors and reporters being groomed for next semesters' ed board knew was a very bad thing. But it wasn't as if he could escape Levi. The man was still his staff adviser and, even though he was no longer in charge of Eren's directed study courses, he was still his photography 3 professor. He also didn't want to stay away from him but with all eyes on them, watching with obvious suspicion, it was impossible for them to relax and behave naturally.

Like Jean, Eren just wanted to curl up under his blankets and ignore the world for a solid 24 hours. That wasn't so much to ask for. And, since tomorrow was his birthday and he could do whatever he wanted because it was the first day of spring break, Eren decided he would make his dream come true. He was going to turn his cellphone off, ignore all social media, and refuse people hoping to visit him. He was going to disappear; go radio silent and let his troubles piss off. But he had to get through today first.

As Eren and Jean fiddled around with the page layout, the Bott's plus Levi entered the newsroom. Greeting the few who had looked up from the stations long enough to say hi, Ymir and the adviser sat down at the large meeting table in the front of the room. Marco, on the other hand, went into the back area to grab his food from the fridge in the Bull Pen. As he passed Hitch and said hello to Marlo who was on the phone with the printers, the brunette spotted his boyfriend hard at work.

Jean was wearing that serious expression he loved so much. His brows were pinched together and his narrowed amber eyes zoned in on the computer screen; his mouth mindlessly chewing on the thumb nail in between its lips. The young man was so focused on his task that he didn't notice Marco standing next to him until he placed a hand on the desk for support. Jumping when he looked to the side and was surprised to see Marco idling so closely to him, Jean instinctively gripped the shirt fabric over his heart.

"Jesus Christ Marco, you scared me," Jean said, a little annoyed at how easy it was for the brunette to catch him off guard. "Don't do that, 'kay."

"Sorry babe," he apologized as he crouched down next to the photographer. Smiling when Jean kissed him on the cheek, he stared at the page for a moment. "You guys are doing a photo essay on the astronomy club, huh."

"Yeah," the younger one nodded then paused as he watched the brunette eye the layout. "What do you think?"

"Honest opinion or boyfriend opinion?"

"Honest opinion."

"It's alright but the photo's on the left page feel cluttered. And the font you're using for the headline is a bit much. I'd use something simple and take out two photo's. With something like this you want to keep it simple so that it doesn't distract from the images."

"What would you suggest then?" Eren asked, sounding a bit miffed that his abilities were being criticized but open to assistance.

"Hmm," Marco mused while staring at the screen. "If it were me, I'd use the photo of everyone looking up at the moon as the lead photo, run it length-wise without cropping and then select three smaller shots to do a mini trunk below it and put the text in the center of that. On the right page, run the shot of the professor pointing up at the sky since the stars are clear in it. Next to it run the photo captions. Then below that shot," Marco said pointing to the screen as he spoke, "I'd use the shots of the kid looking through the eight foot telescope, the close-up of Mars, and the detail shot of the guy drawing the diagram of the moon in his notebook."

Listening closely as the guy spoke, Eren visualized what he was saying. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Marco's layout was better; it was leagues better than what they had at the moment. It made sense that he would be good at this. Even though he was not much of a photographer, he was one of the best page designers in the department; had been for years now. Marco just had an eye for framing things and seeing the bigger picture. It was one of his many talents that made him indispensable. 

Everyone was dreading graduation this year because it meant losing Marlo, Hitch, and the Bott's and nobody knew what would happen once they were gone. That's why all the elected incoming editors, dj's, and staff managers were picking their upperclassmen's brains for the past week and a half. Marco was training Gottesman to take over as staff manager while Ymir was apprenticing Connie for station manager. It was an unexpected turn of events since everyone thought the duchess would get the spot. But Connie proved to be the best choice of the two during his interview.

"Hey," Marco said to Jean as Eren got to work on putting the mans advice to work. "What are you doing tonight? My show wraps early tonight so I thought we could hangout."

"My study group ends at eight so afterwards, if that's alright with you."

"Yeah, that works. Did you want to sleep over?"

"At your place?" Jean asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious, no thanks to the shit-eating grin Sasha was giving him from her place next to the fridge. "Umm, yeah, sure."

"Really? Because you don't sound too sure."

"I said yes, asshole. Stop teasing me." Jean muttered trying to look annoyed. When Marco shrugged and kissed him on the cheek, he smirked. "What now?"

"Nothing," the man answered placing a sweet peck on the photographers' cheek. "Gotta go. Be sure to tune in tonight though."

"Why?"

"No reason in particular."

Jean recognized that devious glint in his eyes but decided to take his word and wait to see what he had planned. "Fine," he sighed. "Where you heading off to now?"

"I've got visual design with Savage in thirty minutes and I forgot my homework in the car. So I'll see you later?"

"Yeah," Jean said pulling him into another chaste kiss. "See ya'. Get to class on time or Savage will kick your ass."

Chuckling, Marco cringed a little as his knees popped when he stood up. "Yeah, yeah, I'm going."

After telling Ymir to lock up the sound booth for him until he came back to do his show, Marco left the newsroom with one final wink toward Jean. They were so openly affectionate since that night they had "killed two birds with one stone" as the brunette put it. And, even though they were nothing like Marlo and Hitch who had been the power couple since sophomore year, they were one hell of a team. Separately, they were each a formidable member of the team; Jean with his unbeatable eye for detail and Marco with his ability to get anyone to open up and chat. Together, they were unbeatable.

That unabashedly open display of affection that the two so easily adopted was something Eren desperately wanted to have with Levi, though he would never admit it. He knew that it was against school policy to date his professor. He knew and yet he still couldn't stop himself from falling hopelessly in love with the man. It was this greediness that had landed Levi on temporary observation and was the reason he had suddenly been called up for reevaluation. It was the reason Shadis was now in charge of his directed study courses. 

They were being punished for loving one another and, despite how much Eren wanted to breakdown and throw a tantrum and beat the snot out of the school president for thinking so lowly of Levi, he kept his mouth shut. He swallowed his words like the bitter pills they were, choking on the disgusting taste each left as they receded back into shadows of his mind. If his partner in this crime was willing to put up with the bullshit, then so would he. And it wasn't as if they were going at it alone.

\---------------------------------------------------------

The next ten hours were nothing but work. Eye straining back-aching carpal tunnel syndrome inducing work that left the editors worn out and blinking back spots left over from the glare of the computer screen. Ymir had left two hours ago to prep the evening shows. On her way out she Clapped Levi on the back as he graded homework and flashed Jean a playful wink, much like her brother had hours before. But hers was something far more devious than his. 

Connie and Sasha were next to clock out for the day. They always did work fast but with the years, their proficiency had become the stuff of legends. The duo could flesh out, edit, and fine tune a double page spread in less than four hours. It was one of the many reasons they were two of the more highly revered editors on staff. Connie may be too much of a nerd to function at times and Sasha was a glutton with no mental filter. But there wasn't any doubt that they were beyond capable.

As the couple left for an early dinner, they asked Reiner and Bertolt if they wanted to join them before their evening show. Quick to agree, the brunette saved the final design for the sports page and sent it to Hitch for cleaning and pressing. Together, all four left with a silent nod and wave to Levi. Following the four was Krista and Jean. 

The blonde had to transcribe an interview she recorded with one of the new math professors then head to the radio. It was that time of year when the applicants for summer hosts would be reviewed to see who would be on the June/July line-up. And even though Krista would be editor and chief of the newspaper next semester and, therefore, no longer involved with the station, she still felt it important to be with Ymir for the process. Her girlfriend would never admit it but she had become very attached to the radio team and was going to have a hard time letting go.

Jean, on the other hand, had finished his portion of the page design and had pressed all the photo's that needed to be submitted. Sending the pictures and their proper captions off to Hitch, Jean placed a hand on Eren's shoulder before he left. Gently squeezing, he told his friend to remember to take a break, eat something that actually counted as counted i.e not junk food, and get home safely. The photographer knew the editor wouldn't leave his station until everything was perfect and submitted for print so there was no use in fighting him on it.

With a long yawn, Jean left the newsroom with his car keys in hand. Eren had noticed when the man pulled them out of his backpack that there was a new set on the mid-size carabiner. They were a shiny silver pair of house keys with a "B" written on one in black sharpie ink and "F" scrawled on the other in purple. Since it was impossible for Jean to have a backdoor to his apartment, Eren assumed they were for Marco's place. It only made sense, especially considering how quickly their relationship had progressed. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if they were walking down the aisle by December.

"And done," Eren smirked at the screen through his glasses that had slumped down his nose. "I'm sending the last four photo's to you Hitch. The first two are for page three, the third is on page six, and the fourth is the lead photo for page twelve."

Clicking open her gmail inbox, the managing editor smiled. "Great job on the colors Eren, as usual. Marlo and I will place these when we get home and then compress the file and send it to the printers. Thanks for the hard work."

"Eh, it's what I do," he said, now opening up the folder with some of the photo's for the next issue he had already gotten in.

Tugging on her coat, Hitch paused when she saw that he had already gone back to work. "Eren, that can wait for when we get back from break. It's already late and you haven't taken a break since Wednesday afternoon."

"I'm just going to stay a little longer. I'll be fine."

Looking up to Marlo, who had his hand on her waist but his worried eyes trained on Eren, Hitch sighed with a shake of her head. "You seriously don't know when to quit do you?"

"Nope," Eren chuckled, spinning in place to face them. When he saw their hands joined together, Hitch's engagement ring glinting in the warm overhead light, Eren felt his chest tighten. "You two are going to visit the family, right?"

"Yeah," Marlo said, tugging her hand gently with added sweetness. "Hitch's mom thinks she found the perfect venue for the reception but it's a half hour drive from where the ceremony is going to be held."

"Where is it going to be again? Sorry I forgot."

"Sonoma County. You're still coming right? It wouldn't be right tying the knot without you," the man chuckled with a kind smile.

"You kidding? I wouldn't miss the opportunity to embarrass you one more time and tell everyone what really happened the night you asked Hitch out for the first time."

"God, are you seriously going to bring that up again?" Marlo groaned.

"I don't know man. You'll have to wait and see. And it's your own fault for making me the best man."

"Yeah but I guess I'll just deal with the choice I made," he joked, nudging Eren in the shoulder with a gentle fist bump. "Don't stay up too late Jaeger or I'll have you on house arrest for the rest of spring break."

"Fine, I get it. Now beat it before you're adoring stares and hand-holding makes me sick."

"Whatever punk," Marlo laughed.

"Night Eren. Get some sleep," Hitch added as they walked away.

Nodding once to Levi, the couple wished them both a restful spring break before exiting the room. The door closed behind them with a deafening silence proceeding the soft shuttering of the entrance sealing shut. Paying little attention to the world around him, Eren slipped his headphones back on. He wanted to press at least the first four or six photo's for the next issue so that he would have less work to do during the break. Shuffling through his playlist, the editor selected "Electric" by Alice Jemima to help him get through the next hour of work. If he moved quick enough, he could be home in time to finish studying for his history midterm.

Grooving to the music and mellow vocals, Eren had become lost to the outside world. His fingers moved across the keyboard swiftly; acting on muscle memory that had been finely tuned over the last four years. He bit his lip when he made a mistake with the lighting and tried to back track. The exhaustion must have been taking its toll now because he was starting to make simple mistakes. Gnawing on his lip, the editor had become so engrossed in his work that he hadn't noticed Levi getting up from his seat to see what the kid was grumbling about.

"Damn it Jaeger, what did you do now?" Eren muttered under his breath. "Fuck, they're gonna kill me if I don't fix this."

"What's wrong?" Levi asked, suddenly appearing next to the kid. He was crouched down next to Eren with both his arms folded over the desktop, eyes focused on the screen. "Oh, I see what you did."

Eren didn't even hear his words since he was too busy jumping backwards at the mans' abrupt appearance. "Fucking Christ, Levi. Warn me before you sneak up on me like that."

"If I warned you then it wouldn't be considered sneaking anymore, now would it," he mumbled with his attention still on the computer. "Let me guess, you messed with the lighting before fixing the focus?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah I did I guess."

"Hmmm...." Levi hummed, rising to his feet only to lean forward with his weight centered on the palms of his hands that were now pressed firmly into the desk.

Waiting for half a minute, Eren looked at him for the corners of his eye. Catching the expression the kid was wearing, Levi sighed and took control of the mouse. Without so much as glancing at the keyboard, the adviser reversed what had been done to the photo. He was still as he stared at the landscape shot for a moment. The article this piece belonged to was about the new marine biology field lab that would be taking place over spring break. 'Anatomy of a Coastline' was the headline the reporter had submitted so picking a photo to match was a bit tricky. But the one Jaeger had selected was ideal even if the lighting was a little shitty.

Biting the inside of his bottom lip, Levi mumbled to himself as he tinkered with the different controls to adjust the color saturation, white balance, and contrast. Eren watched closely from his side, taking mental notes on each and every little tweak that brought the picture one step closer to perfection. The editor always found himself in awe whenever he watched Levi work. He was so talented; he didn't even have to look at what his hands were doing because everything had become second nature to him. It was as if the adviser had been born with photography already programmed into him and only attended school to because it was the "normal" thing to do.

In a blur of motion, Levi's pale slender fingers danced across the keyboard while his other hand moved the mouse across the picture--clicking on select areas that needed to be fixed. The sound of the plastic keys tapping along with the almost rhythmic pace of his fingertips was soothing; like the babbling water of a churning river. It was so relaxing to just work in the same space with Levi because no matter how many times Eren screwed up, the man would always catch his mistakes before they could hit the ground.

Without even thinking, Eren leaned into the strong arm that towered next to him. The touch of the other man's bare skin was so warm and it smelled of clean cotton and a soft smokiness, like the calming scent of a campfire. It was intoxicating but he couldn't restrain himself. He knew that they were, technically, still "in class" and that if they were caught, things would be even worse for Levi. But Eren wanted to touch him; even if it were just for a brief moment. He wanted to feel that skin sweep over his. He wanted to feel those lips on him and those arms hold his body close. 

Eren wanted the closeness and openness that Jean and Marco had or Marlo and Hitch or Sasha and Connie. Hell, even Ymir and Krista had their moments. But Levi and Eren, they had to keep their distance. They couldn't touch each other whenever they wanted. They couldn't kiss or hold hands like everyone else because their relationship wasn't like the others. It was infuriating and unfair but if Levi could manage then so would he.

"You should probably stop nuzzling into me like that kid," Levi murmured indifferently as he adjusted the balance of the sunlight on the waves in the foreground.

"Sorry," Eren sighed under his breath. "I'll stop bugging you."

"You weren't bugging me Eren. But we're in a classroom and I don't want to get you in trouble."

"What does that--?" Eren began but was silenced by a soft kiss on the lips. Tilting his head up, Eren tried to deepen the kiss but to no avail when the man pulled away after another moment.

"There," Levi said, standing up straight while shoving both hands in his pockets. "It's ready to be pressed. Finish up whatever you're doing and head home kid. You've been working yourself into the ground and it's starting to annoy me."

Saving the picture to his external hard drive, Eren unplugged the device then placed it in its slot inside his backpack. He could hear the nerves bundling up in Levi's voice which could mean one of three things. A.) He really was annoyed and wanted Eren to buzz off. B.) There were more pressing matters nagging at him and he was just venting his frustration through mild verbal aggression. or C.) Levi was worried about him because he couldn't care for Eren the way he wanted. 

The third option was a long shot in Eren's mind even though they had already said 'I love you' to one another. Since they had come back from San Francisco, the older man had done nothing but keep his distance only to gaze heatedly at him from afar. Then again, Eren had caught the other glances from those silvery blue eyes. It was the same way Levi was looking at him now; a scowl and furrowed brows but sympathy and self-anguish hidden behind the cold facade.

Gazing back at the beautiful man before him, the young editor felt his patience snap. He didn't care if he got suspended or kicked out of UCSB. There were other schools on both the east and west coast that were still waiting for him to accept their offers. If being with Levi meant going to another school then he'd do it because he had waited long enough to be happy.

Reaching up, Eren wove his fingers tightly into Levi's silken black hair and pulled him down hard. Pressing their mouths together, he wasted no time with asking for permission into the older man's mouth. Instead, Eren bit roughly at Levi's bottom lip then forced his tongue inside the warm mouth when the man took in a sudden breath. The moment their tongues met, the editor felt himself melt.

Levi was just as delicious and addictive as before. He was both sweet and spicy and wholly hot against his own skin. Eren felt the other man growl against him, the sound rumbling in his chest and spreading over the shared surface of their lips. As the young mans' fingers clawed at the soft hair on the nape of Levi's neck and the space between his shoulders, he felt something give; like a safety valve bursting to relieve pent up pressure.

Snaking his arms around the editors' waist, Levi pulled the kid to his feet. Pivoting in a half circle, he forced Eren onto the couch behind them. He couldn't stop. Just a little bit more and he would be fine. They wouldn't go all the way; not here. But he had to touch Eren. He had to feel him writhe in pleasure under his hands; pleasure that he himself had stirred into being. He needed to hear that voice that he had heard every night in his dreams for the past week call out to him now in this moment and those haunting eyes fix themselves on him. Levi wanted Eren more than he had wanted anyone or anything in his life and it had driven him beyond reason.

Pulling away from Eren's kiss swollen lips, Levi trailed down the kids' neck; nipping and sucking his way to the base of his throat. Licking up to the younger mans' Adam's apple, he bit gently enough to drag a breathy moan out of him. He loved how it felt when the kid clawed at his shoulders and knotted the hair at the back of his head. He loved how Eren was already wrapping his legs around him as if by instinct and reveled in the unashamed push of Eren's half-hard cock against his. He was perfect. So fucking perfect and it was breaking him piece by piece.

"Eren," Levi groaned as Eren rutted up against his stiffening member. "We can't; not here in the newsroom."

Pulling himself up to kiss the patch of warm skin below Levi's ear, Eren nipped at the man's earlobe. "Then take me home. It's not like I'm going to sleep tonight anyways."

"Eren--"

"Please," the young man asked with pleading green eyes. "I don't want to be by myself tonight. It could be your birthday gift to me."

"What? You sleeping in my bed?" Levi chuckled.

"No," Eren kissed him sweetly then pulled away so that their heated gaze had them locked together; their lips only an inch apart. "You. You'd be my gift."

"Is that really what you want?"

Eren shook his head. There was nothing he wanted more than to give in and feel himself slowly being taken over by Levi. He'd dreamt about it for longer than he would have liked to admit and, despite Levi's hesitation, the young man knew that this was the right time. Every relationship was different and had its own pace. Their's was no different except that he had been emotionally invested in the older man much longer than the older man had been invested in him; well, at least that's what he believed. But Eren wanted Levi, all of him and he was ready to deal with the consequences--good or bad--that would come with what it meant to have him.

"If we go any further than this..." Levi paused as he loomed over Eren with a seriousness in his eyes that the young man had never seen before. "If I take you home and make you mine, I'll never be able to let go of you even if you want to leave after getting bored of me; I won't be able to stop myself. You get that right?"

"Why would I ever want to leave you when I've spent four years waiting for you to turn around and look at me?"

"Eren...?"

"I love you Levi," the brunette breathed against the mans' lips in between soft chaste kisses that held all the sweetness and weight of his words. "You'll never have to worry about me letting go of you because you're the only person I want to hold onto. So take me home, kiss me until I'm dizzy, and then make me yours."

Gasping quietly when the brunette kissed his chin, Levi closed his eyes for a long moment as he swallowed hard on the anxiety that had built up in his gut. He wasn't lying when he said he wouldn't be able to let go of Eren if they did as the young man suggested. Though he was never the jealous or possessive type, the man had lost so many people--friends and family--in his life that the idea of giving himself to someone, both body and soul, was frightening. 

But Levi had promised to let Eren in. He had allowed himself to fall in love and he was the type of man that believed in exclusivity and soulmates though he would never outwardly admit it. For years, he believed that his life partner had actually been split between his friends Hanji, Erwin, Farlan, and Izzy. It was his assumption that he would live a fulfilling life while experiencing only platonic love then die of old age with nothing but his pictures as witnesses. He wasn't expecting to find the person who was set aside for him in his newsroom or that they would be six years his junior and a student no less. But Eren was his person; he knew he was. And Levi was his person and he wasn't going to let go.

"Alright," Levi finally spoke. Meeting Eren's enchanting green gaze, the man breathed in as if the molten pools of emerald green had taken the air straight from his lungs. "Let's go home."

And as Eren smiled, Levi knew he had made the right call.

\-------------------------------------------------------

"Welcome back to the Ride at KCSB radio. This is your host, M," Marco smiled as he spoke into the microphone. "Now as all of you groovy sisters and brothers know, it's about time for me to sign off but..."

Glancing up at the clock outside his booth--the one that was hanging over Ymir who was standing there looking at him with a suspicion in her eyes--Marco smirked when he read the time. Jean was probably heading over to the house by now and, if he had listened to the dj's advice, was listening to the show.

"But I thought I would wrap it up a little differently tonight. This final song is dedicated to a very special person who has changed my life in the little time I have known them. Sleep well and I'll catch you all on the low tide tomorrow."

Flipping the switch on his soundboard, Marco waited until the "Such Great Heights" by The Postal Service began to play before he removed his headphones. Looking up he smirked when Ymir held up the note she had scribbled on a page from her notebook. 'Was that really necessary?' it read. Shrugging, the brunette waited until she left the room before he pulled out his cellphone that had vibrated twice in his pocket.

JEAN: You wanted me to listen to the show just to hear you dedicate a song to me? Man, you're old school.

JEAN: Btw, how did you know I liked The Postal Service??

The smile on his face grew brighter as Marco read Jean's texts. Gathering his water bottle and hoodie in one hand, the brunette slung the strap of his messenger bag over his left shoulder as he exited the booth. Bumping fists with Jojo and Kellen who were hosting next, he nodded a goodbye to Gottesman inside the tech booth. The curly haired man glanced up in time to catch the gesture and waved his part of the farewell before turning back to his work. 

Tonight was the last night before spring break started so everyone was a little on edge. There would be nothing but dead air for four days so all the hosts wanted to make sure that their shows went off without a hitch which meant double the stress for the duchess. However, the guy seemed to be handling it well. After all, Marco had spent the last two years training the guy for the day he would take over his position.

As he pushed the glass doors of the Storke Communications Building open, Marco was greeted by the refreshing chill of the marine layer that had already began to roll in. Pausing briefly to take in a deep therapeutic breath, the man headed toward his car that was situated in the staff parking lot only a couple yards away. Being staff manager for the radio may be a stressful job that left little to no time for leisure but it did have its perks. A short walk after a long day of classes and DJ'ing happened to be one of them.

Tossing his messenger bag into the passenger seat, Marco popped the keys into the ignition but didn't turn the engine on yet. Turning his attention back to the device in his pocket, Marco unlocked the screen to see who was texting him.

JEAN: Is it too late for me to request a song dedication for someone?

MARCO: Well, I am technically off the clock but I could take one more request. What'd you have in mind?

JEAN: Tunnel Vision by Justin Timberlake

MARCO: What are you trying to say here, Jean. ;)

JEAN: Shut up and listen to the damn song. Also, where do you keep the mint tea again? I can't find it in the pantry.

MARCO: Second shelf in the cabinet above the toaster. I'll be home soon, love. Thanks for the request. <3

JEAN: No prob. Love you, drive safe. The fog is really coming in quick tonight and people are driving like dicks because of it.

MARCO: Duly noted. See you in a bit. <3

With his energy renewed, Marco turned on the car and exited the parking lot. At the stoplight, he scrolled through the thousand plus songs on his phone before landing on the one his spitfire lover had requested. Tapping it to play, he cranked up the volume then turned when the light switched to green. It wasn't that Marco wasn't familiar with the song. He had heard it dozens of times and, a while after it had first been released, had grown tired of it. But the track was given new life when Jean dedicated it to him. And it was so like him. Not only did the photography motif scream Kirstein, but the way the words were arranged also made it seem like something he would say. It was honest and straight to the point but still expressive and meaningful. It was blunt, just like Jean.

Listening carefully to each word as if the song had been written for him, Marco could feel himself starting to get antsy. It had been weeks since he had last spent any real time with Jean. It was the highest level of separation because they still couldn't be around each other even when they worked in the same building and, sometimes, the same room. But Jean was bogged down with work, classwork, studying for midterms, and then training to be the next photo editor.

On the flipside, Marco was busy training Gottesman to be the next staff manager for KCSB, he was studying for midterms, juggling two thirty page research papers, and figuring out the living situation for when his parents came to visit. It was a lot to handle and even the brunette, who was usually so care-free, found himself losing ground. He was tired all the time now and didn't get home until late in the evening. Whenever he had a free day, Jean was almost always working. And when Jean was free, Marco was usually running around doing something. 

But tonight was one of those rare nights when the stars aligned and both men were free. And while he would like to spend half of their night together tangled in the sheets, he was also excited to have the chance just to hold Jean for a period longer than ten seconds. It didn't matter if they had sex or watched a shitty b-rated horror movie or took a long leisurely bath then spent the rest of the night reading on the couch, Marco was grateful just to have a night with the person he loved and had been missing for days.

Pulling up to the driveway, Marco smiled sweetly when he saw the porch lights had been lit, the mail was taken in, and the delicate linen curtains had been drawn for the evening. The warm glow from the indoor lights shone through the windows; illuminating the path to the front door. Everything felt so peaceful and as if everything had fallen together the way it did in a storybook. 

As he walked up the river stone trail leading to the front door, Marco could see Jean's silhouette through the curtains. He was sitting at the dining room table working on something, likely his lengthy study guide for astronomy that was due at the end of the break and covered thirteen chapters. His glasses had slumped down his slim nose and were slightly lopsided from the two times he stopped to rub his eyes or pinch the bridge of his nose. Jean was also wearing his old grey henley that looked so good on him. It was one of Marco's favorite articles of his partners wardrobe.

The brunette didn't know what it was that made him like it so much but he just did. Maybe it was that little hole in the back of the neck that had been worn into existence after years of love and use. Every night they spent together, Marco would pull Jean in after he had nodded off and kiss that spot. That spot was his other lucky charm, right behind the beauty mark in the hollow of Jean's throat.

Having appreciated the beauty of that domesticity long enough, Marco closed the distance between him and the front door. He only had to knock once before the entrance opened. There, standing before him in his black joggers, reading glasses, henley and forest green patterned cardigan was Jean. Allowing his eyes to wander only for a moment, he appraised his lover with total adoration clear in his eyes. Every time he saw the photographer, it was like seeing him for the first time. He was just as handsome, if not more, and yet still managed to look adorable in his "off-duty" attire.

"Finally you're home," Jean sighed reaching out to pull Marco into a warm loving kiss.

Kicking the door shut behind him, Marco laced his arms around Jean's waist. "Yeah," he smiled through the kiss. "I'm home. I missed you so much this week. Seeing isn't anywhere near the same as actually holding you like this. Finally, I can recharge my batteries."

"Loser," Jean chuckled, combing his fingers through the hair on either side of Marco's face. Giving him a quick kiss on the nose, the younger man smiled. "I made dinner so go shower and dry off."

"Mmmm."

"Come on, you can't stand in the front entrance all night."

"Fine," Marco whined playfully as he parted from the man in his arms.

With one more kiss, Marco headed to his bedroom to change. Flicking on the lights in the master suite, he groaned at the sudden brightness that temporarily blinded him. He tossed the messenger bag onto the floor next to the nightstand then flopped face first onto the bed. Taking a deep breath in, he noted the scent of fresh cotton and fabric softener. Jean must have swapped the bed linens out for him while he was waiting for the brunette to get home. 

A small smile stretched across his face as he rolled over; effectively ruining the perfect placement of the sheets and feathered duvet. It was the little things Jean did that had Marco falling for him harder every time they were together like doing the dishes even though he didn't have to or writing reminders on his calendar to pay the mortgage and phone bill. He was also the only person, apart from the brunette's mother, to get him to schedule a doctor's appointment for a full physical. The man hadn't gone in for a check up in over a year and the thought of it gave Jean chills. But what really made Marco laugh was when the woman at the physicians office asked if the photographer was his spouse since she needed to update his emergency contacts list.

Ymir wasn't wrong when she said a few days ago that he and Jean were already acting like a married couple. Even though they hardly had any real time to spend together, they were constantly together physically. Three days out of the week, Marco stayed at Jean's and Friday through Monday, Jean stayed at Marco's. They studied together, slept soundly tangled in the sheets together, shopped for groceries and argued about Marco's addiction to fried foods. It was a level of domestic bliss that he had longed for with other relationships but it never came to fruition. Part of him knew though that that was because the people he had been with before Jean weren't his match whereas the the photographer was.

Switching out of his jeans and tee shirt into his sweats and black long sleeve henley, Marco put the worn clothes in the laundry hamper before hanging up his jacket. The closet was already divided with the brunette's things hanging on the left of the walk-in while Jean's took the right hand side. Had anyone told Marco a year ago that he would meet a man that would break down all his walls and teach him what it was like to be really love someone, he would have thought they were crazy. Never did he imagine himself living with someone in such a simple yet intimate way. Hell, he was convinced he would die a bachelor and had reconciled that with himself. Yet here we was in his first stable dependable relationship with a man who was everything he wasn't but didn't condemn him for his shortcomings. It was surreal for lack of a better word.

Exiting the bedroom, Marco walked halfway down the hall to tell Jean he'd be down in fifteen minutes. Looking up from his laptop, Jean nodded and told him to take his time. He could see the exhaustion on the brunette's face and how it weighed down on his limbs like lead weights. He could also tell that Marco didn't take care of himself when he was busy or stressed which was why he had began taking care of any household chores and organizing appointments. Jean may be a full-time student with a stressful job but it wasn't anything compared to the distinct brand of torture that was the life of a grad student. It was any wonder how Marco even had time to sleep with all the studying he had to do.

\------------------------------------------

While his other half was in the shower, Jean got up to make some tea. He couldn't find the Moroccan mint box he had asked Marco about earlier in the evening so he settled for the white tea with lemon and blueberry. As the water slowly began to boil he removed two mugs from the cabinet. Putting two bags in Marco's cup and one in his, he filled the cups with hot water then walked them into the living room. After setting them down on the coffee table, Jean went back into the dining room to collect his laptop and assignment sheets. 

It was their little evening ritual of sorts that, after the brunette showered, they would relax on the couch and have either coffee or tea. Marco would catch up on his reading while Jean would work on the photo's he had to send his editor at the Independent on Monday. Whenever they needed a break, they'd turn on Netflix and watch an episode or two of something; usually The Great British Bake Show or Grey's Anatomy. Sometimes they would end up fooling around which always resulted in them passing out afterwards. But it was their routine and Jean loved it.

"Hey," Marco said as he entered the room. He kissed Jean on the forehead before taking his spot on the couch. Sipping at the tea, the man chuckled, "Couldn't find the mint tea?"

"I checked the cabinet you were talking about and it wasn't there."

"We must be out of it then," the brunette said as Jean stretched his legs and, without thinking twice, draped them over Marco's lap. "I'll get some tomorrow when we go grocery shopping before we set up for Eren's party. He doesn't know about it, right?"

"Nope, he's completely in the dark which part of me wonders if that's a good thing. The last time Connie, Sasha, and I threw him a surprise party he nearly clocked me."

"We'll make sure no one's within swinging distance then."

"Yeah, everyone except me," Jean rolled his eyes. Smirking when Marco poked him behind the kneecap, he knocked his knee against the mans' chest in silent protest. "So what day are your parents arriving?"

"That would be Monday afternoon. Ymir and I are driving down to the airport to pick them up so you can sleep in."

"You really think I'm going to be able to sleep in?"

"I told you, there's nothing to worry about. My dad already likes you from the sound of it and my mom is asking me when I plan to put a ring on it."

"Jesus, she moves fast."

"She's wants grandchildren is what it is."

Snorting a laugh, Jean quirked a brow when he looked up at Marco. "She knows that I'm a man and can't give birth, right?"

"I meant adoption. I've made it abundantly clear to them that you're a 'He' so don't sweat it."

"I can't believe how chill they are about this," Jean mumbled as he returned to his work. "My mother would rather see me miserable than marry a man."

"Somehow I doubt that. I bet if push came to shove, she'd choose you over her own wants."

"Well we'll see if we ever get to that point."

"Yeah, but when we get there, I get to say 'I told you so,'" Marco chuckled as he reached for the Time magazine that was mixed in with the mail on the table.

Since it was Women's History Month, the magazine was dedicated entirely to women of power, influence, and humanitarian importance. Thumbing past the table of contents and the few advertisements, Marco read through the first two stories. 

The first was about a domestic abuse survivor that had gone on to start a charity and living community for women and their families that had to flee from their abusers despite having nowhere else to go. In the past three years, the program--named Liv's House--had gained so much momentum that it had gone international with sister programs in the United Kingdom, France, China, and Germany. 

The second story chronicled the life of a female biochemist that was searching for a way to better treat Alzheimer's disease. She had made numerous breakthroughs and had even gotten as far as being able to freeze the decaying process of the brain cells. Marco was so floored by her work that he read parts of the article aloud so that Jean could hear it. However, it was when he flipped to the third story that the brunette felt the air get knocked straight from his lungs.

Staring back at him were deep enchanting amber eyes. 'Those are Jean's eyes,' he thought. So was the delicately pointed chin, the slim aristocratic nose, pale skin, and high cheekbones. But it wasn't him. It wasn't his lover looking up at him from the glossed pages. The face that looked so much like the photographer belonged to a middle aged woman with sparkling blonde hair. Similar to Jean's mystique, she had an air of power about her that commanded the viewers' respect. It was eerie how much she resembled him yet felt totally different. Whereas his lover's eyes were warm and inviting, hers were burning and domineering. She most definitely was a woman of power and influence.

"I think I found your female doppelganger," Marco laughed as he silently read over the woman's name.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhmm, some publishing powerhouse named Simone Young," he said turning the magazine around to show Jean.

But the moment the photographer had heard the name, his hands had stopped moving and his body froze. Slowly lifting his gaze to meet Marco's, Jean glanced between him and the woman staring at him. It wasn't a coincidence that she looked like him; more like, he looked like her. He hadn't set eyes on that woman in over a year and had almost forgotten her name until that moment. But of course she would pop up at a time like this. She wasn't even there physically and yet the woman was still able to interfere in his life.

"Jean?" Marco spoke, wondering what had caused the color to leave his face.

"That woman isn't my doppelganger."

"What are you--"

"She looks like me because she's my mother," Jean said, choking on the taste the last word left in his mouth.

Turning the magazine back around, Marco looked between her and Jean. "You can't be serious? This is your mom?"

"Yeah. She's the head of her own publishing house and is the editor in chief of Y&J magazine."

"Fuck," Marco breathed taking another long moment to examine her face. There was no mistaking it. She was his mother. "So this is one of the reasons you left New York. She doesn't look all that mean. Intimidating, sure but I don't see any maliciousness in her."

"That's because you aren't her son and neither was the person who took the photo. Trust me, she's got two faces and the one she wears at the end of the day is a lot uglier than the one she has on there."

Feeling somewhat conflicted, Marco hesitated to read anymore than what was on the first page of the story. She must have been a major power-player in her field if such a prestigious magazine had dedicated that much space to her; four back to back pages with photo's and pull quotes with a timeline chronicling her accomplishments. Looking away from the magazine, the brunette watched as Jean did his work in total silence. He obviously did not want to talk about the matter anymore than he already had. But Marco was curious.

Despite divulging his personal history to Jean, the photographer had yet to tell him much about his past. He was very closed off when it came to his high school years, his family, and his love life before meeting Marco. From what Eren had told him through casual conversation, Marco knew enough to know that Jean had a hard time when he was younger. His father travelled for work so he was gone more than he was at home which left the man and his older sister in the care of their workaholic mother. He also was well aware of his lovers' initial hesitation to get involved with anyone romantically. Was that something left over from living with the woman?

Reading the article, Marco couldn't help but be impressed by her. Whether Jean wanted to admit it or not, he shared many traits with his mother. They were both outspoken people with a mind of their own and a stubborn streak a mile wide. Both of them were driven and strive to achieve their goals regardless of the obstacles they must first face. And from the few jokes she made during the interview, it was easy to see where Jean got his sarcasm and wry sense of humor from. The more he read, the more Marco learned about the man sitting next to him. Most of it wasn't shocking but some things threw him through a loop.

"You're Jewish?" Marco said without thinking. When he looked up at Jean, he could see a little grain of embarrassment and possibly annoyance flare up in his eyes. "I didn't know that."

"My parents and sister are. I'm not practicing though."

"Why not?"

Jean shrugged. "I don't really feel a connection to it. It'd be hypocritical of me to call myself a Jew when I don't even practice the faith or celebrate the holidays."

"True."

"What else did you learn during your investigation?" Jean smirked with a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes.

"Well, you're mother's French and you have an older sister who attends Columbia university when she isn't doing some modeling gig. And your parents met when they were both working for Vogue in Paris. That's kind of romantic to be honest."

"Mmm..."

Pausing, Marco read the next couple of graphs while a sad smile gradually worked its way across his face. "She misses you."

"You don't know that," Jean said tersely.

"Yes I do because she says it in the article."

"Right."

"Seriously Jean?"

Annoyed by the mans' unwillingness to listen to him, Marco yanked the laptop away from his lover. When Jean began to protest, he shoved the magazine into his hands and told him to read it. Glaring at the brunette for a moment, Jean complied and scanned over each line with the same thoughtfulness he'd give any other article. It didn't take long for his expression to change from annoyed to indifferent then finally to a mixture of pained and confused. 

'I am a great deal like my son so we do not always see eye to eye,' she said when asked about how relationship with him verses the one she had with Charlotte. 'But despite our differences, I love him regardless. My children were the only thing I wanted more than to be business woman. It's strange because I hated the idea of motherhood when I was young but when I held my children for the first time, I knew I wanted to give them the world. They were perfect in my eyes and still are. However, sometimes, love isn't enough to fix what has been done and the only thing we can do, as parents, is wait for our children to return to us.'

As nice as it sounded, Jean couldn't help but read that last line with a bit of bitterness. What did she mean by "fix what has been done?" Was she trying to apologize or was she pulling a classic Simone and saying that she was waiting for him to give up this "being gay nonsense" and come home? They weren't on the best terms when he left and the only time she reached out to him now was to check up on his health. But she wasn't lying when she said they were similar to each other. Even Jean knew that. His father had pointed it out when he was little after he and his mother had gotten into an argument about his grades. Does she, perhaps, feel the same way as him?

"Well?" Marco asked, breaking Jean's chain of thought.

"It's just a bunch of nice words she strung together for an interview. It doesn't mean anything," Jean said handing the magazine back to the brunette.

"Seriously? You honestly think she would fake all that just for an article?"

"No. Maybe. I can't tell with her anymore. The last time I saw her, she was demanding that I come to my senses and stop wasting my time chasing men."

"Maybe she realized how ridiculous she was being," Marco commented as he handed Jean the laptop he had apprehended. "From what I read, she seems to miss you quite a bit."

"I honestly doubt that."

"Jean..."

"Fine, how about this," Jean spoke sharply as he closed the computer and removed his glasses. "Every year, my parents hold a charity gala to raise money for their international women's program. My sister has been begging me to come home for it and I was going to decline but, since you seem to be hell bent on reconciling me with my mother, I think I'll accept."

"Sounds like a plan."

"But I will only go if you join me. I am allowed a plus one and I refuse to bring anyone else. Deal?"

"Deal," Marco smiled brightly and leaned in to kiss him sweetly on the lips. "It'll be great."

"Yeah, a real trip through a thorn patch. Doesn't anything make you nervous?"

"You when you're pissed."

"I'm being serious Marco."

"So am I," the brunette said with a more sincere expression. "I don't like seeing you upset which is why I want you to talk to her. I know she means a lot to you even if you won't say it. So, even if nothing comes out of it, could you try and see if you can work things out? I understand that I didn't live through whatever it was she put you through so I can never put myself in your shoes. But it's easy to see that you still love her dearly. So please, Jean, try just one more time?"

Looking into those pleading brown eyes, Jean caved. "Fine, I'll try but only this once because it's you asking. You're already getting me to go to that damn gala that I hate. You should be happy with just that."

"You really are your mother's son," Marco chuckled and gave him a kiss on the head as he stood up. Extending a hand, he smirked. "Come on, we should get to bed. It's already late and we have an early start tomorrow."

"But I haven't finished with these photos and you haven't eaten yet."

"Both can wait until tomorrow. For now, bed. Come on, up," Marco ordered as he took hold of Jean's wrist and dragged him to his feet.

Knowing that it would be pointless to argue, Jean smiled at how bossy the other man was being. Setting the laptop down on the coffee table next to his glasses, the photographer allowed himself to be led down the hallway and into the bedroom. As Marco stood on his side of the bed setting the alarms on his phone for 9:00 and 9:30, Jean took his heart medication and an aleve p.m. to help with the kink in his neck and shoulders.

Slipping under the sheets and fluffy duvet, Jean waited for Marco to turn off the lights and join him. It was easy to know whenever the man was near because the warmth that radiated from him was enough to keep a whole flock of people cozy. Curling up on his side, the younger man felt the brunette wrap around him like a protective blanket. His strong arms draped over his waist and cradle the pillows that their heads were perched on. The long relaxed movements of his chest pressed into Jeans' back; nudging him every so often as if it were to remind him that he was there. Their legs tangled together with the blanket ruffled back enough so that their toes and heels were exposed to the cool air. 

Jean felt his eyes close as he listened to the waves crashing along the shore in the near distance outside the open window. It was so peaceful and soothing. Just laying there with their legs mixed together and their fingers intertwined against the mattress was heaven enough for him. It was true that he did, in fact, miss his mother. He missed his entire family and got along famously with them. But if he had to give up this happiness to gain his mothers' approval, Jean was willing to leave it behind him because the only future he saw for himself was with Marco. That didn't mean he wasn't open to talking to her if she was willing to see reason. But Simone would have to accept him for what he was and who he loved.

Lifting their joined hands to his lips, Jean kissed the back of Marco's tanned hand then pulled it into his chest. "Night Marco. Love you."

In response, Marco nuzzled into the nape of Jean's neck. "Night," he said as he kissed the base of his neck between his shoulders then placed a soft kiss on the hole in his henley. "Love you Jean."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't want to reveal this in the summary space up top because it would ruin the minor reveal. Hanji and Moblit have two kids together. The first is Isaac, named after Isaac Newton and the second is a baby girl named Marie, after Marie Curie.
> 
> \-------------------------------------------------
> 
> Apart from being BAMF's, the Bott's love DJing; specifically for friends and family. They will even play at their own parties because, let's face it, no one can beat a Bott. So here's the master setlist. You'll notice that a few of these songs have some humor in them. This is primarily because Ymir and Marco can't take their jobs too seriously so they add in spoof songs. Furthermore, the siblings almost always perform as a team; rarely do they ever take solo jobs. This means you'll be seeing equal parts Ymir and Marco. Enjoy, my freaky darlings. <3
> 
>  
> 
> \--Bott Blitz List!--
> 
> -"Go Kindergarten" by The Lonely Island feat. Robyn  
> -"Sexy and I Know It" by LMFAO  
> -"Party Rock Anthem" by LMFAO  
> -"Fancy Footwork (Crookers Remix)" by Chromeo  
> -"Cinema (Skrillex Remix)" by Benny Benassi feat. Gary Go  
> -"Bangarang" by Skrillex feat. Sirah  
> -"Breakn' a Sweat" by Skrillex feat. The Doors  
> -"Make It Bun Dem" by Skrillex & Damian "Jr, Gong" Marley  
> -"Hey Baby" by No Doubt feat. Bounty Killer  
> -"Lose Control (Y&M Edit)" by Ciara, Fatman Slim, and Missy Elliott  
> -"Niliria" by G-Dragon feat. Missy Elliott  
> -"Gangnam Style" by Psy  
> -"I Am The Best" by 2NE1  
> -"Talk Dirty To Me" by Jason Derulo feat. 2 Chainz  
> -"Freaks" by Timmy Trumpet feat. Savage  
> -"Freaks (Original Track)" by Timmy Trumpet  
> -"Warp 1.9" by The Bloody Beetroots feat. Steve Aoki  
> -"Drive It Like You Stole It" by The Glitch Mob  
> -"Lights Out" by Mindless Self Indulgence  
> -"Haunted Heathens (Halloween Mashup)" by Twenty One Pilots feat. Evanescence  
> -"Immigrant Song" by Karen O, Trent Reznor, and Atticus Ross  
> -"Booty Swing" by Parov Stelar  
> -"Barbara Streisand" by Duck Sauce  
> -"Boogie That Be" by The Black Eyed Peas  
> -"Rock that Body" by The Black Eyed Peas  
> -"I Like That" by Richard Vission & Static Revenger feat. Luciana  
> -"Too Many Dicks (On The Dance Floor)" by Flight of the Conchords  
> -"Can't Get You Out Of My Head" by Kylie Minogue  
> -"Strict Machine" by Goldfrapp  
> -"Piece Of Me" by Britney Spears  
> -"Circus" by Britney Spears  
> -"Telephone" by Lady Gaga feat. Beyonce  
> -"Love Game" by Lady Gaga  
> -"S&M" by Rihanna  
> -"Dark Horse" by Katy Perry feat. Juicy J  
> -"Bad Girls" by M.I.A.  
> -"Dirrty" by Cristina Aguilera feat. Redman  
> -"Toxic" by Britney Spears  
> -"California Dreaming" by Benny Benassi feat. The Mama's and The Papa's  
> -"Slats Slats Slats" by Skrillex  
> -"Original Don" by Major Lazer feat. The Partysquad


	11. While we're young

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren and Jean meet for an interesting morning, Marco makes an offer, the Bott's throw Eren a surprise party, Levi and Marco are challenged to a game of beer pong, and Jean ask's a tough question.
> 
>  
> 
> \--HEAD'S UP!: So, firstly, I apologize for taking so long to update. I recently lost a dear friend of mine and it took its toll on me. But I wanted to give you all the head's up that I am also working on another fic that should be dropping by the middle of April. It's another Marco/Jean with secondary Levi/Eren and will be based in California. I may be doing playlists for that one too but, this time, I want to hear from you guys. Send me some recommendations and I'll give them a listen. I love hearing from my readers so don't hesitate, 'kay.
> 
>  
> 
> **This chapter is dedicated to my friend and soul sister, Maricela Garcia. You may be gone but all I have to do is knock at the sky to see you again. Love you always and remember to wait up for me.**

This morning was different from the rest and Eren could tell the moment he began to stir from his sleep. As he shifted, he felt a warm hand with calloused fingertips caress his naked side; dancing down his ribs before settling at his hip. There were soft breaths washing over the top of his head, sending chills along his spine. When the brunette moved to stretch, his hands planted against the bare chest of another. It was smooth and firm and hot against his skin. The pulse beneath the bones and flesh he touched went from slow and steady to something more elevated; as if the simple contact were enough to send this persons' heart into a chaotic frenzy.

As Eren opened his dreary eyes, they were met by Levi's warm adoring gaze. 'So this is what love looks like?' Eren thought to himself with a small smile.

"Wow," Eren mused under his breath as he reached up to cup Levi's face. "I didn't know you could be even more handsome than you already were."

"Knock it off," the older man chuckled with a slight blush to his cheeks. Leaning in, he kissed Eren sweetly on the lips. "How's your back?"

Taking a moment to ponder his question then let his sore muscles register, the young man shrugged. "Not bad. How many times did we do it yesterday because you look genuinely concerned."

"I may have lost control last night but the look on your face didn't help either."

"Levi..." Eren arched a brow.

They must have indulged quite a bit since he could only remember the first two rounds. Yet despite mentally checking out halfway through their apparently long evening together, Eren could still recall the searing touch of the older mans' hands on his body. How each drag of Levi's nails against his thighs and kiss on his chest brought the editor such ecstasy, he felt as if he would drown in the embrace. He remembered the way Levi's hot sweaty body pressed against his and the screams of sheer unadulterated bliss that were raked out of his lungs with every thrust once they had joined... It was a beautiful memory even if only half of it survived the haze.

"I'm pretty sure it was somewhere around five times," Levi smirked, looking more surprised at the number than he was proud. "I lost count after the third time though so that's a rough estimate."

"Jesus," Eren laughed with wide eyes.

"I've never been that caught up in sex before. But you're like a drug to me," the man cooed in that delicious velvet smooth voice of his as he kissed a path from the brunette's shoulder to his ear. "You do things to me that I can't explain. All my reasoning amounts to nothing with you Eren."

The young man shivered when the other breathed his name against his ear. Feeling the heat rising in his chest before spreading to his arms, legs, fingers, and up his spine, Eren wrapped both arms around Levi; one looped over his neck while the other secured itself around the mans' waist. Pulling the man on top of him, he tangled their legs together; loving the feeling of skin rubbing against skin. Their tongues slicked over each others' and Levi's hands wandered, looking for purchase in his hair and on his hip. The need and want in their embrace was so palpable, it would've caught fire if a match were struck.

Eren could feel Levi's length harden over his own stiff member. It was shocking to see how much power he had over this beautiful creature. The man was a living god; so stunning and perfect that it was any wonder how anyone thought they could ever compete. He was with without flaw even when his so-called "shortcomings" made themselves apparent. Smart, funny, bitingly sarcastic with a smile that could move the very earth on which they stood--how could he have fallen for someone like Eren? How could such a man, who was so wonderful, lust after a workaholic social misfit?

The answer eluded him still but what Eren did know was that Levi was his. By some miracle, the stars had aligned and he had finally been granted his wish. This man was his and his alone and he wasn't going to let go; come hell or high water. Eren had never wanted anything more than to be loved yet had given up after his last relationship that had left him so broken, he could barely pick up the pieces. Yet somewhere along the line, Levi had joined him on the floor to help collect the scattered shards of who he was. And, over the years, he had been there more than a few times to assist with rebuilding the kids' self-esteem. They had been relying on each other much longer than Eren had realized and all his waiting had paid off. 

Whereas Jean and Marco's attraction and love for one another was almost immediate, Levi and Eren's took a little longer to start burning. But none of it mattered now. No more did the brunette have to work himself to the point of exhaustion just to get a decent nights rest or bottle up his feelings because he was afraid of burdening others. Now he had someone that would share the load; someone that loved him and wanted to take the pain away. Now he had Levi, the strongest and most loving man he knew and, because of that, Eren knew everything would be alright.

Kissing Levi hard as he pressed their pelvis's together, Eren smiled sweetly as he rubbed noses then bit the other mans' lip. "Can we do it again?"

"It's your birthday so whatever you want."

"Really?" he said as his smile grew.

Levi watched the joyful expression stretch across the young mans' face and it filled him with more satisfaction than anything else could. "Yeah," he smirked kissing him softly. "Today is your day so we'll do whatever you want. Sound good?"

"Then can I be on top? I want you looking up at me."

"I like the sound of that," Levi grinned as Eren took control for a moment and flipped them over.

"Hey Levi?"

"Yeah?" he breathed reaching up to comb a hand through the soft sunlit hair atop Eren's head.

Bending down, the editor kissed his lover on the lips then smiled warmly. "I love you."

"I love you too Eren."

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Jean had woken up to the sound of the backdoor neighbors' moaning twice that morning. It had started off low then worked its way up to loud full-blown howling like teenagers in heat. Groaning with his face pressed into the pillows, he shifted onto his other side and buried his face in Marco's chest. 'So this is how Eren felt when I woke him up,' he chided himself. He sighed happily when the brunette next to him slid the window shut then tightened his grip around the photographers waist. Now everything was perfect.

"What time is it?" Jean asked.

Moving only his head and shoulders, Marco glanced at the alarm clock. "Seven-forty," he grumbled as he nestled back into the warm pillows. "Why?"

"I was feeling like it'd be fun to go out surfing this morning."

At this, Marco pulled away suddenly so that he could look his lover in the eyes.

"Wait, are you serious? You want to go surfing with me?" he gawked.

"Yeah. It'd be fun."

"Hell fucking yes it'd be fun!" Marco smiled, suddenly infused with more energy than Jean thought possible.

"I thought you'd say that. Besides," Jean paused as the moaning from the backdoor neighbor's soared to an all-time high. "I think it'd be a good idea to give the folks behind you some privacy."

"Yeah, that might be a good idea since I'm a competitive guy."

"And with that we're getting out of bed," the photographer chuckled as he peeled himself away from his partner. "I'll need to borrow a springsuit and a board if you don't mind."

"What's mine is yours, love. I'm pretty sure my long sleeved Hurley Fusion would fit you. It's in the back of the closet on my side."

Walking inside the expansive closet, Jean looked from side to side trying to spot the one the brunette was talking about. When Marco saw how lost the man was, he rose with a smile and made his way to the door. Stepping around his partner, the older man made his way to the far back of the storage space where all of his wetsuits were folded over the bars of pants hangers. 

Flipping through the twenty different pieces he found the one he had been describing earlier. It was the all black springsuit he wore seven years ago when he won his third championship in Australia. Running his thumb over the embossed MB 25 on the right shoulder, the brunette smirked before removing it from its' hanger.

"Here you go," Marco said handing it over to his lover. "It's old but still fits and works like a dream."

"Thanks," Jean smiled lightly as he took the suit then placed a kiss on Marco's cheek. "I'll go wash up and change. Don't take too long yourself though."

"Gotcha," the brunette chuckled as he pecked the other mans' forehead. "Do you know which board you want to use? I'll get it down while you change since the wetsuit I'm using is in my locker in the garage."

"A fish or a shortboard, either is fine."

"I think my shortboards are waxed," the brunette said as he slipped on his sandals and began walking toward the exit. "But if they aren't I'll dig out two fish or a hybrid."

After Marco left, Jean made quick business of changing. Slipping out of his sweats and henley, the photographer reversed the suit so that it was inside out. Stepping into the first leg, he then slid the other up easily then, with a firm tug, pulled the rest of it up with ease. He decided to leave the top half down--zipped only part way up his back--since the long sleeves would be difficult to get on by himself. Sliding into his old olive green low tops, Jean grabbed his aviators from the top of the dresser, his keys and phone from the nightstand, and a pair of muffins from the kitchen on his way to the garage.

When he got to the entrance of the garage that joined with the house, the young man was greeted with the tantalizing sight of Marco's naked body sliding into his wetsuit. Shamelessly eyeing that perfect line that ran down his back, he found himself drawn to the dimples at the base of his spine. 'So he has them too,' Jean smirked as the wetsuit was zipped up, concealing the marks before he could reach out and touch them. When the man turned around, he smiled playfully back at the other who was slumped nonchalantly against the doorpost.

"You look good," Marco beamed while his eyes wandered up and down Jeans' tight muscular form in his wetsuit. It was like the boyfriend shirt except much more revealing and so much more enticing. "We should go surfing more often if only so that I can see you in that."

"My eyes are up here," Jean teased when he caught the brunette's gaze lingering a little too long on his crotch.

"Sorry, couldn't help myself."

"Hmph," the photographer snorted as he pushed away from the door and collected the other in his arms, pulling him into a long deep kiss. "You call me a tease but have you taken a look in the mirror? You're lucky I don't jump you right here and now."

"I wouldn't consider that lucky," Marco joked as his hands smoothed over Jeans' backside before settling on his hips. "When we get back I am going to slowly strip this thing off you and then take you until you can't take it anymore; promise."

"So long as I can move by tonight, that sounds like a phenomenal plan to me."

"Mmm," the brunette mused as his partner kissed his neck then chin then lips. "Alright, beach time."

"Right."

Taking the scenic route through the neighborhood while eating their breakfast muffins, the couple nodded to fellow surfers heading back to their cars. Most people woke up early to catch the waves before the line-up got crowded with beginners and obnoxious body surfers. Though the site was known for its big waves and was no place for a beginner, starry eyed wannabe's still came to test their chops at Rincon. But the mornings were for the real riders. The window of time between 5:00 a.m. and 9:30 a.m. was called the "Goldie Locks Frame" because it was when the first waves of the day were at their best and the crowds were at their lowest. And the majority of the people in the water were experienced riders; most of them locals from around the neighborhood or surrounding areas. 

Stepping onto the sand, it was like deja vu. Two months ago, Jean had just officially moved in to his apartment and had driven down to the famous surf spot because he couldn't sleep and wanted to get in some morning pictures. That fateful morning that seemed like a lifetime ago would also be the day he met the love of his life. The same man that he had captured floating like a dream across the waters and had bewitched him so effortlessly was now standing before him, glancing over his shoulder to turn and smile at him with the sunlight playing second to his beauty.

It was a long moment before the man in this daydream of his shook Jean free with a tender kiss on the corner of his lips. He felt the brunette's hand slip into his to give a gentle squeeze as if to say 'I'm right here.' It was such a sweet thoughtful gesture. How on earth could he be real? But he was. Marco was there and, even though Jean still felt like the awkward guy with his knees in the sand, he was now his awkward mess and loved every second of it.

"Hey are you surf whores going to get in or what?" shouted a familiar voice from the water.

Turning his gaze to the mischievous voice calling to them from the surf, Marco smirked. Riding in with more grace than he could muster on a good day was Ymir. Right behind her was Krista. It would figure that they'd be out at this time. She loved the water as much as he did but hated sharing the line-up with novice's so the morning was the only suitable time for her to be out and about in Rincon. Well, at least without killing some poor beginner with their own funboard.

Walking up to them with purpose, Ymir stared inquisitively at Jean. Eyeing the familiar wetsuit, the one that her brother cherished and donned only on special occasions, a single brow arched up speaking everything she herself did not. Apparently they were much closer to one another than she had thought. For Jean to be wearing that suit meant her brother was more than serious about the guy.

"I didn't know you surf," Ymir said flatly as she drove her board into the sand. "What was you're stomping ground?"

"Montauk," Jean admitted with no apparent offense taken to her questioning. "I'm not a big wave guy but I've been riding since I was small."

"You chilled with jaws in shark alley with monster swells?" she laughed giving him a slap on the arm. "Then these shitty ankle biters shouldn't be any problem for you."

"Ankle biters? You just rode in on a six footer," Jean scoffed, unable to handle how she made this look like child's play.

"Well compared to the waves back home, this is weak. I assume Marco filled you in on that right," Ymir teased as she walked past them and sat down on a large log of driftwood. "Or are you still in the dark there?"

"No, I know about the North Shore, Moa," Jean snickered playfully as he accidentally let the nickname Marco used for her slip.

Ymir's eyes went wide and her mouth dropped as did her brothers. "What did you just call me?"

"Fuck," the photographer said.

"Fuck is right," she stood and stomped toward him. "Marco, I'm going to kill you and your hot piece!"

"Run for the water guys!" Krista laughed.

"Damn it Jean," the brunette chuckled as he and Jean booked it toward the waves. "What did I tell you about letting her know I told you?"

Behind them, Ymir shouted, "Get back here pua'a!!" But once their boards hit the water, they paddled out and disappeared under a cresting wave.

Diving down deep until the little monster rolled on by, the two men shot back up with a sudden burst through the surface. Quickly glancing over his shoulder, Jean watched the mounting waves while slipping the long sleeves over his arms and then reaching back to pull the zipper up the rest of the way. Twenty feet away, Marco had already fixed his wetsuit and had his eyes trained on the waves sneaking up in the distance. It was impressive how, the moment he entered the cool ocean water, he switched from joking around to scanning the area with a scrutinizing expression. He really was a professional but it wasn't until then that Jean could see just how in tune with the elements he was.

Every bob from the surf that kicked and rolled underneath his board sent signals up his arms and legs before racing along his spine to be received by the brain. He could feel the current change and the undertow lick at his feet. He could sense the wind shifting before it had even moved through the area. His dark glittering brown eyes that were alight with an animalistic ferocity that hummed within them watched the horizon until spotting a small inconspicuous lift in the water.

"Jean," Marco shouted over the noise of the surf and the gulls hovering above. "When I turn, you turn, 'kay?"

"'Kay,"

Jean watched as the brunette sat at the ready, eyes fixed on the horizon. Then, like a monster slowly coming to life, the wave he had spotted before it was conceived in the depths below rose up. As the wall of blue rolled into what had to be a seven foot beast, Marco paddled closer as did his surf mate. Like they had agreed, as the wave began to reach its peak, the man turned around with his back to the wave. Following Marco's lead, Jean turned and immediately felt the water pull him back. The current was much stronger than he had anticipated but it wasn't anything he hadn't experienced before. Letting his years of surfing shark alley take over, the photographer sprang up before the man next to him and shot down the still forming tube.

Hot on his heels was Marco who could have darted past him if he had wanted to. But, until Jean who preferred riding out a barrel, the brunette like carving water and the tube was big enough that he could indulge in a few tricks. In a flash, Marco shifted his weigh letting it flow from his toes back to his heels while his posture aligned perfectly so that his center of gravity was at his core. Swapping from one rail of the board to the other with ease, he waited until Jean cleared his trajectory before releasing the rail he was riding and slingshot ahead.

The burst of spray rushing over his arm and cheeks was Jeans' only indicator that the man, who was previously behind him, had now shot ahead of him. It happened so fast the photographer could not believe his eyes. With awe and wonder, he watched as Marco cut upwards for a perfect tailslide, slipped down, and then launched back up into an aerial.

"Holy fucking shit!" Jean couldn't stop himself from shouting with a disbelieving smile that stretched from ear to ear. "What are you, a God damn dolphin?!"

Marco only smiled as he rode the wave out. The following rides were just as active for him as he brushed up on his repertoire of tricks. And while his partner certainly wasn't a pushover and had real talent out on the water, there was no doubt that this was the brunette's terrain. It was like he had been born with the sol purpose of surfing in mind and everything else played second to this skill. 

Furthermore, the first leg for qualifying for the Triple Crown was coming up and he had every intention of joining the line-up. As such, he had to be in fighting form. It also was fun to show off a little in front of Jean. He'd never admit it to the guy, but he got a kick out of those wide-eyed stares every time he pulled off some trick or flip.

\--------------------------------------------------

An hour or so later after Jean had gotten most of the surf fever out of his system, he paddled in to catch his breath. It had been a long time since he had worked his muscles in that way and his calves and obliques were beginning to burn. How Marco could go at it for hours on end, he had no idea. The man was part fish or something.

Joining Ymir and Krista, he took the water bottle the older Bott offered him. A small grunt sounded in his throat as he plopped down next to the two women. Taking a long swig from the bottle, Jean sighed lightly then laid back with his head resting on the log behind them. Together, they watched the solo figure in the distance rip away at the water as if he had set out to the conquer the ocean one wave at a time; and conquer it he did. One after another, the barrels and crests gave way to his board like a canvas on which an artist were to paint upon.

"He really is something else," Jean breathed without thinking.

"Yup," Ymir smiled to warmly as she watched her brother. "He certainly is."

"I know this may sound heartless but he should just be a professional surfer and do radio on the side."

"Marco is a professional surfer," Ymir snorted a short laugh before turning to catch the confused awestruck look on Jeans' face. "Wait, you seriously didn't know? Dude, you guys are banging and you didn't know what he did for a living?"

"It never came up!" Jean defended. "I just assumed he did something in broadcasting."

"You really think he could afford to own a beach front house on a radio hosts salary? Damn Jeany boy, you're dense. It's a good thing you're hot," she teased while Krista struggled not to laugh at her side.

"Whatever. It's not my fault since he never bothered to tell me."

"Tell you what?" Marco smiled breathlessly as he came walking up from the water.

Eyeing him up and down, Jean felt himself shudder inside. He didn't know if he'd ever get used to the sight of Marco dripping wet, fresh out of the ocean, and brimming with energy. The way the sun beamed down and kissed every inch of his deep honey gold skin got him every time. Each and every morning they spent together felt like a dream; especially the ones where Jean would walk down to the shore to meet the older man as he came back in from his morning ride.

"You didn't tell him you pro surfed," Ymir said when she saw how useless Jeans' mouth had become. "Ugh, he's doing it again. Somebody wrap him in silk already. God..."

While Ymir groaned and flopped backwards into the sand with an annoyed huff, her sibling walked over to Jean's side then sat down. Nuzzling into the young mans' neck, the brunette inhaled softly as he cherished the ocean spray mix with his lovers' uniquely clean mellow scent. It was faint but strong enough to make his heart skip when the breeze kicked up the smell. Kissing Jean at the crook of his neck, Marco smiled happily while weaving their fingers together.

"You didn't know I pro surfed?" the brunette asked sweetly from the other mans' side. "I thought you knew or had figured it out since it's all I really do apart from you and school," he finished with a playful smirk.

"No, I did not know," Jean blinked then turned to kiss him on the forehead before placing a small love bite on the tip of his freckled nose. "It makes sense though. How long have you been at it?"

"I went pro about eight years ago right after I turned nineteen."

"Fuck."

"Yeah, it's been a while but I love what I do."

Pausing for a moment as their fingers gripped tighter around their joined hands, Jean licked his lips nervously. If Marco really was the athlete Ymir made him out to be, why wasn't he in any of the competitions for the last two years? Something must have happened to keep him out of the line-up's and away from the water. Chances are it wasn't good. It never was when surfing was involved. Most professional riders disappeared for a while after a serious accident. That was the only way you could get a surf enthusiast to take time off. So what had happened to Marco?

Pressing his cheek firmly against the brunette's head, he took a deep soothing breath. "I didn't see you in any line-up's for the past two years," he said almost choking when he felt the eyes of the two women to his left focus on him with piercing heat. As Marco's nails curled into the skin on top of Jeans' hand, the photographer finished. "What happened?"

Ymir was about to snarl that it was none of his business but was interrupted by a foreign surfboard being driven into the sand right behind them. Whipping his head around, Jean's eyes wandered up the frame of the man at his back. Staring down at the photographer and brunette with a humored smirk was Levi. It took a long moment before the younger male knew who he was staring at because the difference was night and day; just as it had been at the banquet on the final night of JACCU.

Clad in a black formfitting Hurley Fusion 202 fullsuit with two matte grey stripes around the right thigh and the top rolled down to reveal his alabaster skin and toned shoulders and stomach, the man looked years younger then his true age. And with the way the sun was hitting him, he looked almost otherworldly; possessing a beauty that was similar to Marco's but more severe and unnerving. 

As he lifted the water bottle to his mouth with his left arm, Jean caught sight of the aperture scale with matching shutter speeds expertly tattooed on the inside of his bicep. On his right wrist just below the thumb joint were the letters "KA/BA." The black ink stood in stark contrast to his snowy skin just like his dark raven hair and the sharp angles of his face. No wonder Eren had been drooling over the guy for so long.

"What are you guys doing on the beach when the waves are perfect for riding?" Levi asked with a slight tone of indignation, as if their idling offended him.

"We were taking a break," Marco said with a light smirk. "Took you long enough to get here. I was wondering if you were ever going to show."

"I was busy," the older man said in an oddly defensive manner.

"I'll bet."

There was something going on that Jean and both of the women were not privy to. Whatever it was, it had Levi embarrassed and Marco sporting that devious grin he got whenever he was feeling mischievous. But just as the younger photographer was about to take a guess, his green-eyed friend joined them on the beach wearing a matching set of black compression surf shorts and long sleeved surf shirt and charcoal gray board shorts with a custom white and black shortboard secured under his right arm. When Eren's eyes met Jean's, the dot's connected faster than the brunette would've like.

Before anyone could stop him or register what was happening, Jean shot up and grabbed Levi's left shoulder. With a ferocious growl, he lifted his free arm--the hand balled into a tight fist--and drove it full force toward the mans' face. Everyone jumped to stop him and Eren yelled while Levi remained frozen in the moment. He had never seen such a sudden shift in emotion, especially from Kirstein. Unable to look away, he watched the fist that surely had enough power behind it to break his nose fly closer to him. But, at the last moment, it stopped. Hovering a fraction of an inch above the skin between his eyes, the hand shook with the receding energy that was slowly being drawn back.

Releasing the air he had been holding onto, Levi felt his ribs quake and his teeth unclench. Less than a foot away, he could see wildfires burning bright in the depths of Jeans' eyes. There was a reason he was doing this. The guy wasn't one to act out of character without cause. Was this a test? No, he had known about them since the ride back from San Francisco. This was something else. Staring at each other for a long suspended moment, the young man silently cleared his throat before leaning in to shed light on the situation.

"That was a warning," Jean spoke with a bone-chilling coolness. "If you break his heart, I'll break your face. I don't care if you're a professor."

"Jean!" Eren snapped.

'So that's what this is about,' Levi thought to himself as he knocked Jean's fist away from his face.

Though he had never asked the kid about his previous relationships, something bad must have occurred somewhere down the line to warrant such a response from his friend. And while Levi knew that the two were close, he wasn't aware just how tight the two young men were. Teetering between best friends and brothers, they were extremely protective of one another; especially Jean. Whereas the parents were usually the ones to please, this time it was the overprotective friend with a nasty looking left hook. But as terrifying as Jean was in that moment, it was comforting to know that someone had his lovers' back.

"I don't plan on it Jean," Levi said with a calm expression. "I love Eren. I promise not to hurt him and, while he may not make a big deal out of it, I know he would like your blessing."

Glancing between his nervous friend and the man standing in front of him, Jean squared his jaw with a sharp sigh. "Fine, you guys have it. But if you screw up and make him cry, I swear you'll be spitting blood for a week."

"Trust me, he'll never be left wanting," the dark-haired man chuckled. Grabbing his board he began walking toward the water. "I guess I should start looking at rings then."

Going wide-eyed, Eren and Jean stared at Levi as he pivoted and smiled brightly. Was he serious? There was no way he could be. But, then again, the guy wasn't one to crack a joke like that. He was too serious; too professional in both his private and public lives. At Jeans' side, Marco laughed while shaking his head. Mumbling "that crazy bastard" under his breath, he grabbed his own board then tugged at his lover's wrist.

"Come on," Marco smirked. "When was the last time you got to surf with Jaeger?"

Looking at his partner then his friend, Jean's awestruck expression melted into something warmer. "Years."

"Yeah," Eren added smiling as he combed a hand through his hair. Sneaking a peek at Jean, the younger brunette smiled wryly. "Bet you I can paddle out faster."

"I'll take a piece of that action," the other grinned.

Sprinting off toward the surf, boards in tow, the three left on the shore stood there humored at the reversal of moods. Biting his lip, Marco hitched his board under his arm and jogged off to join them while shouting for Ymir and Krista to join. Somehow, the morning had taken a turn into the unexpected. But despite how strangely it had all come together, the man wasn't about to question it. Why would he? Before him was a dreamlike vision of his sister, lover, and close friends sharing a late morning ride on the clear waters; all of them smiling and getting along. It was a perfect moment that made him wish, for the second time, that he had the same photographic skill level as the three other men out there. If he did, Marco would capture this moment and make it last forever.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

With the music on high, Marco rinsed off while singing along to "Pistol" by Josh Kempen. After Levi and Eren had joined, the crew spent another three hours in the water before calling it a day. Now it was time to clean up and get going with the rest of the afternoons' chores before people started heading over to help set up for the surprise party. It was a shame that they had spent so much time at the beach since the brunette had promised Jean that they'd spend an hour or so together after surfing. He hadn't counted on Levi, Eren, his sister, and her girlfriend joining them. But there was no use in lingering over it now.

However, as he went to scrub down, Jean slid the glass door open then closed it behind him as he entered the shower. Ignoring his lovers' shocked expression, the photographer took the lathered up loofah from him with a casual "thanks." There was silence for a moment before it was broken by the sound of Marco kissing the other mans' damp skin that still smelled of sunblock and ocean spray. Wrapping his tanned arms around the fair expanse of Jeans' stomach, the brunette continued to trace a line down the mans' neck; nipping and teasing the flesh that was so hot beneath his lips.

"Took you long enough," Jean sighed as his head rolled to the side to expose more of his pale throat to the brunette behind him. "I was hoping you didn't forget about that promise you made earlier."

"I wasn't sure if we had enough time."

"Well, maybe not for the whole nine yards but," the photographer said as he turned in the embrace so that they were facing each other. "I think we got plenty of time for the first three or four."

"Fuck," Marco bit his bottom lip as he watched Jeans' hands smooth over his wet chest, craning his head back as he kissed the toned muscles and licked his nipples. "God, the things you do to me."

"You sound like you're having a hard time with your words," the other laughed as he ground his pelvis against the brunettes. "Better hurry or we won't have time to do anything."

It was as if the notion of letting him go un-fucked angered Marco because as quickly as the words had been spoken, the man snaked an arm around his partners' waist pulling him up while the other tugged at his thigh in silent command. Catching on fast, Jean went with the flow and jumped in place and hooked his long taut legs behind Marco's back before being pinned against the tiled wall. As the water came down, the two lost themselves in the heat of each others' mouths, the hunger that compelled Jean to rake his nails down the others' back, and the frantic rutting of the brunette's cock against his lovers' tight ass.

"Damn, I wish we had more time," Marco growled lowly as he worked small marks into the flawless skin of Jeans' chest while the fingers of his left hand slid closer to his partners' backside. "There's so many things I'm dying to do to you."

"We can do that tomorrow morning but for now, fucking move," Jean commanded as he pulled at the short hairs on the nape of Marco's neck. "I need you Marco Bott."

"Jean," he breathed then secured his lips atop of his lovers'.

Letting his hand slip between the halves of Jeans' ass, Marco worked a single finger inside of the other mans' entrance. The moan that left his lips was like music to the brunette's ears. With mounting anticipation and carnal desire burning in his veins, the older man slipped another digit into him. As Marco spread them open and stretched his tight muscle, Jean moaned and gasped and panted frantically against his partners' neck. In the back of his mind, he made a point of monitoring his heart rate. 

The last couple times that had made love, his pulse had soared well above what could be considered normal for him. Being the considerate guy he was, Marco would slow down and treat him gently which--if Jean liked leisurely bouts where he were doted on like a woman--would have been fine. But he was wild and had zero inhibition when it came to sex; especially with the brunette. He liked biting, scratching, being pinned down and feeling him thrust deep inside him at full force. While Marco was not as rowdy and untamed as he was, the man had his limits before his reason snapped and his instincts took over. And Jean made certain to press those buttons each and every time he moaned the other mans' name or rocked his hips.

Jean knew that the moment Marco bit down on space between his neck and shoulder was the moment the older mans' sensibility had been cast to the wind. Without warning, the brunette removed his fingers then pushed his cock deep inside of the photographer until he was buried to the hilt. Crying out as the feeling of being filled shot through his gut and up his spine, Jean clawed into the bronzed skin of his partners' back. Wrapping both arms around his neck as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to this world, he whimpered as the hard member shifted deeper into him. 

Marco waited patiently as the man in his arms adjusted to the sudden intrusion. Distracting him with heated needy kisses that dragged soft sighs from the others' lips, the brunette steadied himself while tightening his grip on Jeans' thighs. His breath hitched in his lungs when he felt a squeeze on his cock. Tearing away from the photographers mouth, he released a long moan as the delicious heat and tightness that he was immersed in contracted around him.

"Move babe," Jean breathed with quake in his voice. "I'm not going to last much longer like this."

"Same here love," Marco grunted as his lover pressed their foreheads together.

With heavy breaths and long thrusts, the pair climbed closer to their release. Now a shivering mess in Marco's arms, Jean cried out his name over and over as the cock pushing further into him hit his prostate. Gasping, he hugged the brunette tighter as the wanton moan rolled out of him. It felt so amazing, so surreal, hanging onto Marco like this. It was perfect and powerful and affirmed the love they shared. He could feel the need and desire to monopolize him flowing out of Marco like water bursting free from a dam. Sometimes, it was enough to bring him to tears; a display Jean was thoroughly embarrassed by but was surprised to see how much joy it brought Marco. Sometimes he forgot how much of a hopeless romantic the man was. And sometimes, Jean could feel the sentiment rubbing off on him.

"Marco," Jean gasped. "Marco, I'm close. I'm going to cum."

"Me too Jean," the brunette rasped against the hot dewy skin of his partners' collarbone. "Fuck, I'm going to lose it. Cum with me."

"Ah! Marco!"

When his lovers' body tensed and spiraled into its' climax, Marco felt the tight coil in the pit of his stomach snap. "Jean!"

Thrusting twice more, he released inside of the heat with a shuddering cry. Jean had brought Marco in for a crushing embrace as he rode out his mind numbing orgasm that washed over him in waves. It took them a long minute or two before they began to sink back down from the high they had just been launched into. Still joined, they shared a sweet lingering kiss. Sliding out, Marco kept an arm around Jeans' waist as he lowered him so that the man could stand. Slipping when his weak knees buckled, the photographer laughed when he was caught by his lover.

"I guess we over did it," he beamed feeling too happy to be embarrassed.

"Maybe just a tad," Marco chuckled as he corrected the mans' posture then kissed his shoulder. "I'll help you wash up."

"Thanks babe."

"No prob love," he said then pecked Jean on the cheek.

As Marco worked Jeans' hair into a lather with the citrus shampoo they shared, the younger man noticed that the music was still playing in the background. Smirking when he heard the distinct vocals of Gwen Stefani singing "Underneath It All," he couldn't help but relate to the words. It was funny how, when they first spoke, Jean thought Marco was nothing but a cocky bastard that was gifted with a gorgeous face. 

That flirtatious smile that used to drive him crazy because the man was just another tease now drove him crazy with delight because it was full of love for him and him only. Sure, the brunette was still oblivious at how others' looked at him and couldn't turn of his charm even if had had a map and written directions. But underneath that cool facade and wicked smile was a genuine specimen of humanity that wore its' flaws without fear. Marco was a bold fearless lover that felt no need to hide his orientation. He was honest and caring and considerate even when it made Jean feel like some damsel. 

The man also knew the importance of personal space and Jeans' need to be independent. Even though they were attached to each other most of the time, there were still days when the photographer craved solitude. When those moments came, he did not need to say a word. Marco just somehow knew to make himself scarce or, if they were in the newsroom, refrain from bogging him down with conversation. There was nothing awkward or tense about it. They had a mutual understanding. And it flowed both ways when Marco needed extra attention sometimes after sex or just wanted to relax on the couch while holding him close. 

Things like that--like Marco washing his hair for him--would have annoyed Jean in previous relationships. But this was different. This was something that was built on the foundation of an unimaginably strong bond that had formed before words had even been exchanged. This was what joy felt like. It was filling and sustains one even in times of sadness and loss. And the more Jean thought about it, the more his heart ached.

Reaching up, he took hold of Marco's hand and brought it to his lips. Kissing it once then twice, he then laced their fingers together and pulled them to his chest. Reading the mood, Marco turned off the water with his free hand. They lingered like that for a moment, Jean reclining his head back until it dusted the top of the brunette's shoulder while his partner pressed their cheeks together.

"Hey Jean, I was thinking about something."

"Yeah?"

Nodding against him, Marco nuzzled into Jean's neck like a shy child. "You don't have to say yes or anything but, I know your lease on the apartment is up at the end of June so I was wondering if you would want to move in."

Filled with glee, Jean smiled as he moved his other hand up to hold onto Marco's forearms while tears threatened to fall from his eyes. "I'd like that."

"Really?"

"Mhmm," was all the photographer could manage at the moment. Kissing the arms that had wrapped themselves protectively around his shoulders, the younger man buried his tear stained face in them. "Let's live together."

Kissing the back of Jeans' neck, Marco smiled brightly. "Yeah, let's live together."

"Marco..."

"Hmm?"

"I really love you," Jean sniffled with his face still hidden against Marco's arms.

"I love you more."

\---------------------------------------------------

Jean was risking life and limb with this surprise party. It wasn't a lie when he told Marco that he had nearly been clocked in the face by his best friend. Not that it held any malice in it. It was just a knee-jerk reaction that the two young men had developed after the years of torment they endured throughout junior high and high school. But he was the only one that could distract the guy without it seeming suspicious.

Following a morning of surfing, a brief afternoon romp with the man he would soon be living with, and an early evening rock climbing with Eren at the new Boulderdash that had opened last month, Jean was feeling the anxiety mount. Trying to remember which hand the guy next to him faked with and which was really his striking side, the photographer did his best to play it cool. He had told Eren that they had to swing by Marco's to pick up his heart medication.

Walking up the path, there wasn't a single car in sight that appeared to be out of place or a sound that was out of the norm for that time of night. Shivering not from the cool air but his impending doom, Jean removed the keys from his back pocket. Needing only a moment to locate the silver one labeled "F," he slid it into the lock while praying silently.

"Seriously Jean, how could you forget to take your medication?" Eren scolded as he shuddered against the freezing wind that rolled in with the marine layer.

"Dude, fucking calm down. I said I was sorry," Jean played along. 

As they entered, there was a solitary creak against the floorboards in the dark expanse of the main entrance and joined living room. Taking that as his queue to book it, Jean quickly stepped to the side as the lights came on. Eren let out a fierce war cry of sorts as one hundred plus people shouted "Happy Birthday!" Dodging the fist that flailed toward him, Jean pressed himself against the wall by the front door thanking his stars that he wasn't seeing stars. He had forgotten that Eren was a south paw until that very moment and was lucky that he hadn't been decked.

At the front of the massive crowd was Sasha, Connie, Marlo and Hitch, Ymir with Krista at her side, and Gottesman. As Eren's expression switched from terrified to confused to astonishment, Reiner and Bertolt carried in the massive double tier camera cake the Bott's had special ordered for the event. While the crowd sang happy birthday, the young editor blushed every shade of pink and red possible. Hiding his face in the sleeves of his long dark gray hoodie, he curled into Jean who was standing by to hug him if need be. 

It had been years since anyone had ever done something like this for him and the thought of everyone from the department getting together to wish him a happy birthday was overwhelming. Chuckling as Eren nuzzled into his chest, Jean squeezed him tight and whispered "Happy Birthday. I love you man." He could feel the brunette laugh then sniffle as he wiped away the tears before anyone could see. Despite his age, Eren was still painfully shy whenever he was the center of attention. It was something Jean hoped he never grew out of no matter how old they got.

When Eren turned around, he was wearing a smile brighter than the light of a billion stars. He was such a dazzling kid and it always showed most when he was happy. The way his golden green eyes would come alive and sparkle while his nose sprunched up when he grinned from ear to ear was so childlike; it could reduce anyone to a whimpering puddle of goo. It was a rare sight these days with everything he was being put up against but tonight...tonight he was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt but not a single part of him felt like stopping. 

Once the green-eyed young man blew out the candles and the crowd had clapped, cheered, and congratulated him, Marco shouted "This one's for you Baby Spice" from the dj's stand. Dropping "Dirrty" by Cristina Aguilera, the older man blew the younger brunette a kiss paired wink when the guy flipped him off with a humored smile.

As the group dispersed to dance, grab food, or a drink or set up a game of beer pong outside, Eren found himself turning from one side to the other as people congratulated him. There were friendly slaps on the shoulder, fist bumps, kisses on the cheek from the girls in the department, and hugs; especially from Sam and Taylor. While her brother manned the soundboards, Ymir danced with Krista--loving every moment of the blonde vixen bumping and grinding against her. When the young editor passed by, she turned away for a moment to give Eren a firm hug. Shouting "happy birthday" over the music, she took a step back when two figures jumped into frame.

Nearly tackling him to the ground was Mikasa and Armin. Both were childhood friends of his just like Jean. All four of them had grown up in the same neighborhood and went to the same schools from grade school all the way up to high school. They had even decided to attend the same college although Jean had to take two years at a community college before he could join them in California. However, despite living within relative proximity to each other, the four of them rarely had the time to see one another. Mikasa was busy writing lengthy research papers and essays every other week while Armin was bogged down with lab work since he was a grad student and was on the accelerated track in the master's program.

Seeing their smiling faces was exactly what Eren needed. Hugging them back with all the strength he had, the brunette pulled back so he could get a good look at them. Mikasa had cut her hair short again--this time in a pixie style with longer bangs. And she had a new piercing in the top cartilage of her left ear. But she was still as cool as ever and was the only girl he knew who could rock candy apple red glasses. On the flipside, Armin had grown his hair out enough that he could pull it into a messy bun. His bangs were pinned back with bobby pins to show off his large crystal blue eyes. To Eren's surprise, the guy had somehow managed to grow some stubble; a first for the blonde who seemed destined to be effeminate for the remainder of his life.

"Fuck, I've missed you guys so bad," Eren said hugging them again. "What's up? How's life been?"

"Chaotic," Mikasa shouted over the music with a grin. "I've been cramming for midterms since February. If I have to read another one of Shakespeare's works, I'm going to burn the damn department down."

"So she's doing well," Armin laughed as Eren nodded sarcastically. "I've been pretty alright. Life was a little rough when Olou was gone on paternity leave. Hanji may be a genius but she doesn't know jack about marine wildlife."

"I don't know what makes her think that she would," Mikasa interjected.

"Maybe she thinks that if you know one form of physical science, you know them all," Eren shrugged.

Armin shook his head. "I doubt it. I think she's just crazy; still love her though. Anyways, yeah it's gotten better since Olou came back. I wonder if that means Professor Ral will be coming back soon. Who's standing in for her right now?"

"Ackerman," Mikasa smirked knowingly.

"And how are you handling that?" Armin said with a note of sympathy in his tone.

Figuring that he might as well tell them now, Eren bit his lip. "Well, we're kinda seeing each other."

"Boom! I win!" Mikasa shouted victoriously while Armin just gawked at him. "I told you one of them would make a move before graduation. That's sixty bucks and a week of doing my laundry."

"Damn it," the blonde muttered.

"Sorry man, you bet wrong," the brunette smirked.

While the three amigo's played catch-up, Jean maneuvered through the crowd carrying two pony neck bottles of beer as he headed toward the dj stand. Unlike Eren, he had stayed in touch with their friends and went out to lunch with them at least once a week. Sometimes they went out for drinks if all three of them had the evening off. He had tried inviting Eren but the brunette was just as stubborn as his old man. It was a shame though since he had missed Armin's epic fail when he tried to flirt with a girl from his field class at Casey's bar a couple nights ago. Fortunately for the blonde, the girl found his corny jokes endearing. They were already on date number three and things were looking good for Armin.

They had also given Jean their blessing after ambushing him two days ago. Armin and Mikasa had a way of testing prospective partners for their friends which usually involved catching the poor guy or girl off guard and taking them out for coffee. If they didn't say what they needed to hear over a cup of joe or came off as fake, they would inform the friend immediately; texting them with a laundry list of why the person they were dating was a bad choice. This was something the two had implemented after the chaos the two guys that Eren and Jean dated during senior year had caused. Since then, both young men had to get the seal of approval from Armin and Mikasa or it was a no-go. Thankfully, Marco had passed with flying colors. Mika had even gone as far as to say that if she were straight, Jean would have some major competition. Good thing she was as bent as he was.

Stepping onto the dj stand, beers in hand, Jean kissed Marco on the neck then handed him his drink. Dressed down in a plain white v-neck, slim dark wash jeans that hugged his hips perfectly, and some throw on black low-tops, the man was a feast for the eyes and a few of the freshmen in the room made that fact abundantly clear. It was when the photographer had spotted the latest gaggle of young women and men trying to chat him up--one going as far as to touch his wrist over the soundboard--that he decided enough was enough. So, excusing himself from the rather interesting conversation he was having with Mikasa's crush, Annie, Jean traversed the crowd to go claim what was his. Sometimes, the brunette's endless charm was more a curse than a blessing but he loved him for it still. So when the young man placed that peck on Marco's neck, he glanced up at the group of people trying to flirt with him and glared a silent warning. They got the hint thankfully enough for them.

"God, do I need to put a ring on you or something?" Jean said close enough to the brunette's ear so that he could hear. "How many people have tried making a pass at you now?"

"I wouldn't mind if you did," Marco winked as he dropped the next track; a collaboration between Missy Elliott and G-Dragon called "Niliria."

Flashing an amused smirk, Jean shook his head while slipping an arm around Marco's waist as he stepped closer to him. Looking down at the soundboard and the playlists on two separate laptops, the photographer wondered how the man next to him kept track of what was going on. There was so much to take in from sound balancing and interference to bass and treble reduction and which songs had to be boosted and which had to be checked so that they didn't blow out the speakers. But none of it seemed to faze him. If anything, it helped with keeping his attention. Apparently the guy had a bad case of ADHD and the only way to keep him calm and mellowed out was through rigorous physical activity and with tasks that required divided problem solving. And just like surfing, DJ'ing was a perfect fit.

Jean watched as Marco grooved along to the music, bobbing his head while jumping on the balls of his feet at certain parts where the bass dropped and the crowd went wild. The energy they released seemed to feed him even more as the smile just kept getting bigger and bigger. He was so damn adorable, it was almost criminal. Tightening his grip around the mans' waist, Jean smiled when Marco returned the gesture and took hold of him without a moments hesitation then quickly kissed the top of his head.

"Hey babe," Marco said next to the photographers ear while handing him a pair of galaxy skin Dre Beats. "Wanna help me with the mixing?"

"You're going to trust me with your board?"

"I'm pretty sure she can handle it," he joked while sliding them onto his lovers' head, slipping the right earphone off just enough so that he could hear. "There, now you're a radio rockstar."

Laughing lightly, Jean bit his bottom lip and followed where Marco was pointing to as he explained how to mix, splice, and fade songs. For the photographer, this was right up there with rocket science and music theory. Linear thinkers liked everything to be cut and dry; straight to the point with zero shades of gray in the middle. They were great problem solvers but there had to be some kind of plan. When it came to emotive skills like music and art, linear thinkers were worse off than a fish on dry land. But Jean wanted to understand why Marco got such a high from doing this. What was it about music that got him so riled up? He was determined to find out so, with his partners blessing, he took a whack at mixing the next two songs.

With Marco at his side in case something went wrong, Jean tried to remember what the brunette had done to blend the end of one track into the opening of the other. The photographer had chosen two songs he had listened to enough on his own to know they would sound good when spliced. Copping out when he couldn't recall where the splicer was, he just faded the track Marco had going, "First Of The Year (Equinox)" by Skrillex with "Scary Monsters and Nice Spirits."

He half expected the hype to drop since the transition between the selections sucked but no one seemed to notice. Looking to Marco who was watching with a reassuring closed mouth smile and a hand planted at the small of his back, Jean felt his confidence increase just a bit. Calming down enough to think and backtrack to what his partner had taught him only a few minutes before, the photographer closed his eyes and listened carefully to the beat; waiting for the perfect moment to cut the next one in. 'It's something you'll just instinctively know,' he remembered Marco saying. 'You just got to visualize the last forty seconds of the first song and pick where you want to mix the next one in.'

As the song crept closer to the end, Jean felt it--the feeling that told him where to start blending the two. Reacting as if he had done this before, the young man glanced down at the soundboard and pushed up slowly on the treble booster while pulling back on the bass. The last thing he wanted to do was blow out the custom sound system Marco had spent a small fortune on. Taking a peek at the brunette before the man could notice, Jean bit his lip while wearing a wicked little grin. He hadn't told Marco what the next song was going to be. He wanted it to be a surprise. 

Pressing the space bar on the laptop on the right as the track on the other one hit the thirty second mark, Jean bobbed his head as the Skrillex remix of Benny Benassi's "Cinema" flowed with the closing beat of "Scary Monsters and Nice Spirits." When Marco heard the song start, a soft smile stretched over his face. He knew more than anyone that music was subjective and changed with the dj's mood or what they were thinking and Jean was no exception to that rule.

Closing the small distance between them, Marco nuzzled into Jean's neck while his eyes remain fixed on the other mans' hands. His fingers were so long and slender and pale yet possessed an impressive muscle memory that they could program a camera or retouch a photo in minutes without him having to look at what they were doing. Those hands that combed through his hair and gave him little shoulder massages when he had worked late and came home exhausted were now dancing over the keys and sliders on his soundboard. Those hands that would touch him so heatedly and taunt his skin as they raked down his spine...

Unable to stop himself, the brunette reach down and brought Jeans' left hand to his lips. Kissing the back of it first, he placed little affectionate pecks on each finger before flipping it over to rest the palm against his cheek. Catching on fast, the photographer smiled and gently rubbed Marco's jawline with the flat of his hand; sweetly tugging his earlobe when the man nibbled on his thumb. As they waited for the song to play into the "switch zone" as older man called it, Ymir approached the dj stand with Krista to relieve her brother for the next hour. When she saw the two canoodling, the woman cleared her throat loud enough to stir them from their flirtation.

"No dry humping or fucking on the soundboards kiddies," she said wryly with a cat-like grin. "If you want to bump uglies, please go to your room Marco. This is your place after all."

"What if I'm into exhibitionism?" Marco shot back with an expression just as wicked as his sisters.

"Ew, don't you even dare."

"Hey, it's my house and I can do what I want."

"Yeah but something tells me that would piss off your boyfriend," Ymir countered with a cool wag of her brow as she slid on her purple illusion Beats. "Pretty sure he isn't into letting others watch as you two get down and dirty."

"Speak for yourself Moa," Jean shrugged teasingly. "Maybe fucking him in public would be enough to keep the freshmen away."

"Okay Scary Spice, I'm going to act like I didn't hear that and give you rabbits ten seconds to beat it."

Proud that he had found one of the few ways to shut down Ymir's taunting, Jean handed Krista the headphones he had been wearing. Extending his arm across Marco's back so that he could hold onto the mans' hip, the photographer tilted his head up and smiled as his lover kissed his forehead while draping an arm over his shoulders in the casual yet possessive manner that made him melt on the inside. Rolling her eyes as the two men left, Ymir decided to play a fun little prank on them. Smirking at Krista who knew exactly what she was scheming, the blonde killed the music and wolf-whistled to catch the rooms' attention. 

Pointing at the Jean and Marco, Krista gave a shout out to them for "doing such a great job and keeping the vibes going." Dedicating the next track to them, she laughed when both blushed red the moment "I Like That" by Richard Vission and Static Revenger featuring Luciana began to play. Swaying her hips at the long moaning during the chorus then thrusting her pelvis at the end of the groan, the blonde could give the Bott's a run for their money when it came to things one probably should not do in public; or in front of the elderly for that matter. Making themselves scarce, Jean and Marco went outside for some fresh air.

\--------------------------------------------------------

"Fucking really?!" Connie whined with a tone of resentment as Mikasa landed another ball in one of his red dixie cups.

"Read it and weep," the dark-haired vixen called as she high-fived Eren who had landed the shot before her. "Drink up chrome dome."

"You're the worst Mika," the shorter male groused as he fished the ball out with a single finger then downed the shot of rum.

It was no secret that Mikasa and Eren were the team to beat when it came to drinking games. Not only did they stay sober longer than the others, they both also possessed a freakish ability to gauge proximity. In Eren's case it made sense since he was a photographer but his partner-in-crime had no excuse for being that good. But there was nothing Connie and Sasha could do about it. So taking their defeat graciously, the pair downed the remainder of their drinks and the four cups their opponents had left.

As the couple wiped the liquor from their lips, the backyard gate opened quietly. Looking away from the comical bickering between his friends, Jean spotted Levi walking up the path. Again, he was dressed down in an outfit similar to what he was wearing on the first day of instruction. This time, however, he donned an old Joy Division tee, ripped black jeans with a flannel tied around his hips, scuffed dark brown combat boots, and a long thin leather ribbon with a small aged silver Om pendent. It was almost funny that no matter what the guy wore, he still managed to look younger than half the people there.

"'Bout time you joined the festivities," Marco shouted with a grin. "I was considering breaking out the second subwoofer to drive you out."

"I was busy grading midterms," Levi said flatly as he grabbed a Guinness from the cooler. "You're lucky you aren't in any of my classes. I'd fail your ass for that attitude of yours."

"Good thing I'm not a photographer and I'm no longer on publication."

"Indeed it is." Turning up just as Eren leaned in to kiss him sweetly on the lips, the man smiled lightly. "So who won?"

"Mika and I."

"I figured as much."

As Eren sat down on the arm of the metal patio chair--welcoming the arm that wrapped around his slim waist, Levi chuckled as Mikasa hugged him from behind. She was his cousin on his fathers' side but they acted more like siblings since they were so close in age and spent every summer and winter break together. It didn't help that they looked like they could have been twins; hell, it had thrown her friends through a loop on their first day of class. But to her, he was her brother even if they didn't share the same parents.

Everything from learning how to roller skate to kick-boxing and how to out run a squad car after getting caught trespassing, it all came from him. As children, the only way her parents could get her to fall asleep was if he was laying next to her. If Levi wasn't with her, Mikasa would cry like a banshee until he ran the three blocks down from his house and sang her to sleep. While this kind of behavior would have annoyed him, with her it was different. She was the little sister he never had but always wanted. 

So, like any good older brother would, Levi pampered the girl and spoiled her rotten except when she really began to act like a brat. He would take her camping on the beach during the summer and teach her to surf. They went to theme parks twice during winter breaks, visited museums, and saw plays together. When she hit puberty, he was the only person she would talk to and allow to go to the store with her when she had to buy hygiene products for the first time. He was also the first person on her speed dial so whenever Mikasa was in trouble, Levi was the first to know.

They were as close as family could be which was why it was a bittersweet moment when Eren told her that he liked her cousin. Part of her wanted to keep him all to herself since the thought of being replaced by someone else terrified her to no end. What would happen if Levi became so wrapped up in the relationship that she fell to the wayside and was forgotten? The idea had passed through her head once or twice but after seeing how bad Eren had it for her cousin, Mikasa caved and did whatever she could to nudge the two of them together. She had always been protective of Levi, especially after what the last joker did to him. The man was lucky she didn't rip his throat out. But this time, it would be okay. This time, the person who had set their sights on him was just as broken but strong enough to carry on and had a heart big enough that he put others' before himself, always.

"So who's playing next because I can't take another round," Connie said with a slight slur; a key indicator that it was time for him to call it a night. "Mika, you and Jaeger should battle each other."

"Sorry Con, but I'm tapping out. I have an early morning tomorrow. Oh, speaking of which," Mikasa paused as she turned to face Levi, "you can still drop me off at the airport tomorrow right? If you can't I can always ask Armin or Annie."

"Annie?" Levi repeated with a confused expression before he remembered who she was talking about.

"The blonde in Erwin's two-twenty class. You know, the chick who I've been renting an apartment with for the past two years."

"Oh yeah. Sorry I forgot for a moment. I can still drive you unless you want her to take you instead," he said with a sly smirk that was subtle enough that only she caught it. "It's up to you. Let me know soon though so I know if I have to wake up early or not."

"I'll just ask her."

"Suit yourself."

"Well that's all nice and whatever but who's playing next?" Connie interjected almost too loudly, even for a drunk.

Chuckling, Levi looked to Sasha who was sober enough to drive the short distance back to their apartment. "I think it's time for him to go home."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. Come on babe," she grunted as she pulled her boyfriend to his feet. "See you guys later. Happy birthday Eren."

Once they dynamic duo had left, Marco decided it was about high time to cause some trouble. He knew that he could handle himself in a game of pong but the thought of seeing Jean get Cali-girl wasted was too great of a sight to pass up. However, this meant they couldn't be teammates. 'Oh well,' he smirked.

"Hey Levi," Marco called from his seat across the patio. "You down for a game?"

"What, against you?"

"I was thinking more like you and I against Eren and Jean."

"I'm pretty sure that's considered cruel and unusual punishment."

"Seriously?" Eren scoffed.

"You're good kid but Marco and I used to play this game all the time during grad school," Levi stated, having missed the point completely.

"Right, okay then," the young man spoke with a hint of rebellion in his tone. Stepping away from the chair he watched Levi with burning eyes. "Up."

"What?"

"Eren, stop," Jean warned from his place next to Marco who was smiling like mad.

"Nah," Eren said with a smug grin; his New York accent suddenly flaring up. "If they think they can out match us then let's let them try. I don't mind teaching an old dog new tricks."

Mikasa nearly fell off her chair as she laughed at the last part of Eren's comment. The brunette was really asking for it considering Levi didn't take anyone's shit; even if he was crazy in love with the guy. From the way he was talking, she gathered that her friend was unaware of her cousins' history or that he was the leader of a group of delinquents in high school and wore steel toe boots just to make it hurt more when he kicked someone during a fight. But she wasn't about to tell him now. Eren had made his bed so he was going to have to lie in it.

"Fine," Levi smirked as he rose from the chair. "But if I win, you got to do something and you can't bitch out."

"Deal," Eren said putting up a confident facade even though his courage began to waiver. "But if Jean and I win, you and Marco have to do something."

"Damn it Eren, what the fuck did you get me into," Jean scolded him as they walked to their end of the table.

"Chill dude, we got this."

"Like hell we do," the photographer said before he downed his beer. "Alright. Let's get this shit over with. Hey Old School," Jean called out to the two men opposite of them. "Rack up and divide the cups between rum, beer, and whiskey. And each team gets one re-rack."

"You can't be serious," Marco spoke wearing a look of horror. "What game are you playing at?"

"It's called beer pong ladies," Levi added with a similar expression.

"Do it or we win by default."

Looking to each other, then to Mikasa who only shrugged, the men divided the cups between the three drinks that had been named off. If those kids wanted to get shitfaced, then Marco and Levi wouldn't stop them. Little did they know who they were going up against.

Taking off his glasses and hooking them around the collar of his shirt, Jean leaned back lazily to make the first shot. The ball went straight in with a little spin at the end before plopping into the puddle of whiskey below it. Arching a teasing brow at Marco, he winked as the man rolled the ball back and downed the shot. Cleaning off the small plastic orb, Jean called the second throw before it even landed.

"Heating up," the photographer said as the ball arched then dropped into a cup of rum. "Drink up Ackerman."

"Cool it kid," Levi smirked before easily knocking back the amber liquor. "I wouldn't put my foot in my mouth if I were you."

"Yeah but you're already missing two cups," Jean smirked as he handed the ball to Eren after cleaning it.

"Fire," Eren chimed as the ball fell into a beer cup. "That's for you Levi. Ball back, please,"

"Fuck," Marco chuckled as he looked at the two young men across from them. "I think I may have gotten us into trouble."

"Head's up Marco," the other brunette called as the shot came. But he had overextended his throw and hit the lip of the cup. "Damn it."

"It's alright," Jean said as he patted Eren's back.

"Finally," Levi quipped as he took the ball and cleaned it off. "Jaeger, middle cup."

Before the kid could turn to see him toss the ball, the shot had been made. Wagging a brow at the young man, Levi smiled as his lover snickered after drinking the cups' contents. Next up was Marco who didn't even need to move. He just snapped his wrist gently and let the plastic sphere sail through the air until it bounced off a cup and fell into the one next to it. While Eren took the beer cup, Jean took the rum shot. Calling "heat," the older brunette landed a second and third cup. When they got the ball back, Levi sank a fourth but missed the fifth when a leisurely breeze blew through.

Looking to even the score, Jean did a bounce shot. Marco tried to swat it away but missed which meant they had to drink two instead of one. With the older men down by five and their challengers down by four, things really were getting interesting. Calling for a diamond re-rack, the photographer threw a fastball that dropped straight into the back cup. Teasing Marco as he frowned at the taste the rum left in his mouth, Jean stepped to the side so that Eren could do a behind the back toss. Circling the rim of the of the left cup, it finally plopped in. Despite their luck, the young brunette missed the third throw as the number of drinks from his last game and the current one began to hit him.

Cursing under his breath, Eren scowled as Levi bounced the ball off one cup and landed it in another. Marco called "fire" as the little orb sank into a rum cup then let out a woot as he scored again; this time with a shot of whiskey. Shivering as he downed the liquor, Jean stuck his tongue out at his lover across the table. The man smiled playfully and said the next one was for him. It landed in a beer cup, then, after the ball was rolled back to Levi, another shot hit in a rum cup.

With only two cups left, the young men focused as much as they could manage. Swatting the ball as it hit their top cup, Jean fist-bumped as he took over as shooter. Bouncing the shot, the ball rolled over the top of two cups which left both sides of the table with one. Staring Marco dead in the eyes with an expression of casual defiance, the photographer tossed the orb; making the winning shot like it was nothing. Then, picking up the last cup on his side, Jean walked over the other end of the table and handed it to Levi while he waited for the older brunette to finish his beer.

After polishing off the drink, Marco pulled Jean into a long hot and heavy kiss with one hand on his waist and the other knotting the hair at the nape of his neck. When his partner was good and out of breath, he backed away with a final bite to the mans' bottom lip. Levi and Eren had walked away the moment things got too heated with Mikasa following them inside so it was just the two of them on the patio. Letting his hands wander, Marco squeezed Jeans' backside through his pants while the other held his face close enough the he could kiss his lips, the skin below his ear, and the pale column of his throat that he had been wanting to sink his teeth into all night.

"So what did you have in mind since you won?" Marco breathed in that deep husky voice that drove Jean wild.

"Fuck babe," the young man moaned as the hand on his ass massaged the muscle and the other twisted lovingly in his hair. "Could it be a two parter?"

"Anything you want."

Praying that no one could hear him moan as Marco pushed their lower halves together, Jean placed both hands on either side of his lovers' face so that they were looking at each other. There was something he had been wanting to ask, more like clarify, all day long but hadn't had the opportunity to bring it up. Now was his chance. Despite being half-hard and horny as hell, Jean was determined to get an answer out of the man in his arms. Then, if they were still up for it, they'd screw each other senseless.

"Marco...?" Jean breathed as he felt his lovers' hard member brush against his.

"Hmm?" the other hummed while kissing his neck.

"What happened two years ago that stopped you from surfing?"

Marco stopped moving then sighed against Jeans' shoulder. "You really want to know?"

"Yes."

Lifting his head, the brunette looked into those beautiful amber eyes he had come to adore. "Fine," he groaned kissing Jean softly. "It's not pretty though."

"I don't care. I want to know so tell me everything and don't hold back."

"Alright," Marco said pulling them back onto the couch swing that was a foot behind them. As Jean settled on top of him, Marco looked up at the sky as he revisited the day almost gave up surfing. "I guess I should start from the beginning then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very special playlist that I have decided to attribute to Levi. Like me, he is an old soul that needs a little reminder every now and then to give in to his inner child and have fun. So, in honor to the kid in us all and Levi's closet wanderlust, here's his healing playlist.
> 
>  
> 
> *FIXED LIST*
> 
> -"Counting Stars" by OneRepublic  
> -"Feel Again" by OneRepublic  
> -"Pistol" by Josh Kempen  
> -"The River" by Josh Kempen  
> -"You Are The One" by Josh Kempen  
> -"Beneath The Sun" by Josh Kempen  
> -"How Good It Can Be" by The 88  
> -"Feel It All Around" by Washed Out  
> -"Fall In Love" by Phantogram  
> -"Sleepyhead" by Passion Pit  
> -"The Reeling" by Passion Pit  
> -"Kids" by MGMT  
> -"Electric Feel" by MGMT  
> -"Time To Pretend" by MGMT  
> -"Young Blood" by The Naked and Famous  
> -"Caught By The River" by Doves  
> -"The Cave" by Mumford & Sons  
> -"Winter Winds" by Mumford & Sons  
> -"Ophelia" by The Lumineers  
> -"Charlie Boy" by The Lumineers  
> -"The World At Large" by Modest Mouse  
> -"Float On" by Modest Mouse  
> -"Blame It On The Tetons" by Modest Mouse  
> -"One Chance" by Modest Mouse  
> -"The Good Times Are Killing Me" by Modest Mouse  
> -"Charlie Brown" by Coldplay  
> -"A Head Full Of Dreams" by Coldplay  
> -"Hymn For The Weekend" by Coldplay  
> -"Adventure Of A Lifetime" by Coldplay  
> -"Kaleidoscope" by Coldplay  
> -"Army Of One" by Coldplay  
> -"Colour Spectrum" by Coldplay  
> -"Up & Up" by Coldplay  
> -"O (Hidden Track)" by Coldplay


	12. Never Let Me Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean learns the truth behind Marco's absence from surfing, Eren and Armin catch up, Marco and Ymir's parents visit, and Jean gets an unexpected call from someone from his past...
> 
>  
> 
> \--HEADS UP!: There will be Hawaiian being spoken in this chapter because Marco's parents are visiting and both are native speakers, just like their two children. 
> 
>  
> 
> \--WARNING!: These next two to three chapters are going to be very angsty and will probably have a few hospital and peril related triggers. Since the chapters proceeding this have yet to be written yet I can't put them in the tags but please be aware of it before you start reading. 
> 
>  
> 
> \--PLAYLIST!!: So here is the compiled list of songs for Marco's "Mellow Out" list. I would like to give a huge thank you and high five to FunnyPoeple for taking the time to sit down and do this. You rock out loud dude!!
> 
> Marco's "Mellow Out" list: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLvWD-reIJKicRxx0M30dezr8uacrPwFNM

The vicious churning ripped at his limbs as the brutal force of a thirty foot monster crashed down on him, nearly knocking Marco unconscious. He couldn't tell which way was up or down, left or right. With every break that came down, he felt the water scrub him raw with a flurry of sand and silt before it spat him back out. His ankle stung from the gash that had been left when the safety cord of his board tore away and his lungs burned from the strain of trying to hold onto the last breath he had taken. 

But Marco couldn't last much longer. His arms were giving out and his legs ached as they fought against the relentless onslaught of titanic waves cresting and receding, cresting and receding, each time taking him with them with the undertow. 

Taking advantage of the brief pause, the brunette pushed his feet against a rough rock that was nearby and shot up to the surface. On the shore, Ymir was screaming and thrashing against two security guards while three daring lifeguards ran toward the water. 

It seemed like moments ago that he was sailing his way in to first place for the Maverick's Invitational. Everyone was cheering his name like it were magic. The water had stretched out before him in an endless blue road that could be ridden to anywhere. But now the chanting had turned into a muddled clamor of screams and shouts mingling with sirens of incoming ambulances. How did it turn out like this?

Before he could take another breath, an ungodly beast that dwarfed anything he had ever seen broke over Marco pushing him down. He could still hear Ymir's heart shattering scream. It was probably the last time he'd hear her voice and that tear stained look of fear was likely the final image he would see before he died in that cold unforgiving ocean. 

One by one, the surfers' legs gave out followed swiftly by his tired arms that went slack as the air filling his lungs escaped in a tiny trial of bubbles above him. 'At least it's a peaceful death,' Marco thought before his eyes closed and the undertow took him farther out to sea.

\---------------------------------------------------

Jean awoke from his nightmare in a cold sweat with his hands balled into fists that were tearing into the bed sheets. It was a dream. It had all been a dream except it wasn't. For the past two days he had been having the same visions of Marco plunging into the ocean, being knocked around by the waves, and then drowning. He could still hear the screams of the spectators, still taste the salt water, and feel the stinging pain around his right ankle from where the strap had broken free in the dream. 

His body shook with fear and flagging anxiety that made his heart soar. Feeling the tall tale signs of an episode coming on, Jean reached over and grabbed the bottle of propranolol off the nightstand next to the bed. Popping one twenty milligram pill into his mouth, he washed it down with a swig of water from the water bottle that sat beside the medications he took every evening. As the young man waited for it to take affect, he turned to find Marco sleeping soundly. 'Thank God,' he thought with a sigh as he brushed the wavy strands of the mans' chestnut brown hair away from his forehead. Placing a butterfly soft kiss on his smooth warm skin, Jean laid back down next to the slumbering brunette.

Studying his lovers' features the way he did every time he woke up first, Jean noticed little things he had missed before. There was a beauty mark on the top of his left earlobe and a small indistinguishable gap in the eyebrow on the same side. He could see the faint tan lines from the tank tops he wore while out at Rincon and the small scar from the surgery he had to repair his collarbone when he was twelve. 

Following the line from Marco's throat down his naked chest to his navel, he smirked when he saw the small upside down heart birthmark by his hipbone on the right hand side. The photographer loved kissing that spot because it made his lover squirm since he was so ticklish. To be honest, he loved kissing every part of him; especially the old scar on his right thigh that he hadn't noticed until Marco had told him about the accident.

After their conversation at the party, a fear had settled in Jean's heart. He was terrified of what he would do if Marco went out for a ride and never came back. What would happen to him? Jean knew that his heart wouldn't recover from the loss. It'd be better for him to just drown with the brunette than to try to carry on without him. 

So, to affirm that he was very much alive and wasn't going anywhere, Jean had decided that Marco's payback for losing at beer pong would be spending all of Sunday with him--holed up in the house--making love as many times as their bodies would allow. He had never done something like that before; more like he had never wanted to. But after hearing that kind of horror story, Jean needed something to shake it out of him. 'I'm never letting you go,' he said silently while draping an arm around the other man. 'I won't lose you.'

As he made these voiceless promises to himself, Jean felt Marco stir. His tanned chest heaved in a rush of air before it exited past his still kiss-swollen lips. It was sweet how soundly he had slept. He must have been exhausted from their marathon the day before. They had even gone as far as to collapse into a deep sleep without anything on and had neglected to take a shower; although they had taken one the day before--purely out of necessity though it turned into yet another place that laid witness to their love making.

Opening his glittering chocolate brown eyes, a warm smile swept over Marco's face. "Hey."

"Hey," Jean beamed back, loving the touch of the tender palm that had reached up to cup his face.

"How're you feeling? Anything hurting?"

Shaking his head for 'no', the young man leaned in and kissed his partner on the lips. "Nope, I'm good. I think we did it so many times that it wound up just making me more limber. What about you though? Did you pull anything?"

"No, I'm fine," he chuckled rolling onto his back. "I'm surprised that we went at it all day. I literally can't remember half of the shit we did."

"Mmm," Jean hummed as he relaxed with his head on top of Marco's chest; right over his heart. "My brain is struggling too but every other part of me seems to remember what happened just fine."

"You know, if I hadn't spent all of yesterday screwing you senseless, I probably would've gotten hard from what you just said. But I doubt my libido has recovered."

"Same. I'm all fucked out too."

"I think we'll have to wait until tomorrow to do anything."

"Sounds fine by me."

Laughing, Marco bent his head forward to kiss the top of Jeans. "We should probably get a head start on the day. Ymir's doing me a solid by picking up our parents at the airport but the house is still a mess."

"True, and I need a shower after that last time."

"Same."

"I'll lead the way then," Jean grunted as he pushed away from the warm body next to him and stood on his own two feet. He still felt a little weak in the knees but there was nothing to be done for it. "Come on Casanova," he smirked with an extended hand. "Let's go wash up."

After rinsing off and getting dressed, Jean cleaned the dishes they had ignored yesterday then got on with making brunch. As the young man diced up ingredients to put in their omelettes, Marco tidied the living room. Books had been knocked off the shelves, the throw blankets that were usually neatly drawn across the back of the couch were all over the floor, and the coffee table had been pushed up against the far wall by the fireplace. Laughing to himself when he saw random moisture stains dotted over the wood floor, he made a mental note to keep them on the couch--or at least a blanket--if they ever did that again. 

Between the little scratches on the ground next to the television stand and the dried spots, the marks of their love making were everywhere. 'Levi's going to kill me next time I see him,' he bit his lip suddenly remembering that the man was his backdoor neighbor and was usually cranky if he was woken up wrong. And, as far as Marco knew, loud moaning and pounding against the walls and knocking shit over was definitely not on the man's list of appropriate ways to be roused in the morning. But whatever. 

This was Marco's house and if he wanted to make a mess of it with his partner, then he would. It was payback for the day before that when Levi and Eren had woken them up with their howling.

"Food's ready," Jean called from the kitchen as he grabbed the plates and walked to the slider door in the living room. Exiting onto the patio, he sat them down on the pale wooden table; smiling when Marco kissed his cheek. "Is the house back in order?"

Nodding as he sat down in the chair next to the photographer, the brunette leaned back with a sigh. "Yup. I didn't leave a trace behind. Well, the scratch marks you left on the floor are a different story but I don't have time to sand and polish those out."

"It's your own fault," Jean smirked throwing a napkin at his face. "So what time will your parents be here?"

Pulling up the phone in his pocket, Marco took a glance at the clock then counted quietly. "Two hours, maybe a little more. Their plane landed at LAX around eleven and Ymir just texted me that they're on their way back but there's gnarly traffic."

"Why are they coming in through LAX again? That place is hell on earth."

"The airport here doesn't take flights from Hawaii very often because the airplanes are usually airbus's or jumbo's."

"Well that's ridiculous."

"It's how it is. I'm sure they'll change it soon enough though," Marco shrugged casually as he sipped at the coffee Jean had made. "So what do you want to do in the mean time while we wait? We could walk down to the beach and squeeze in sometime on the boards."

"Hmmm, or we could go rock climbing. I haven't been in a while and my shoes are starting to stiff up," Jean lied. In all honesty, he didn't want to be anywhere near the beach.

"Sure, I don't mind," the brunette smiled giving his partner next to him a quick peck on the cheek. "I think I know where my shoes and chalk bag are. Did you want to do indoor or outdoor?"

"Either is fine. How about SB Rock Gym?"

"Sounds perfect."

\-------------------------------------------------------

Eren took a deep breath and visualized the route. Opening his eyes, he took a small running start before leaping and grabbing hold of the first blue grab-hold--a midsize jug shaped rock that had a spot for each hand. Flexing his spine into a deep curve, his feet found purchase on two gumball blue holds that left his bottom half starfishing. Letting his right hand drop, he chalked it up then gripped the stone so that he could coat the other. Once he had, the brunette started scaling the C 5.10 route that his colleagues at Santa Barbara Rock Gym had named "That Jaeger is so how right now." It was a step down from the extreme green D 5.9 that had been named "Jaeger: student by day, beast by night." It was funny at first but now he couldn't escape the voices of people asking "who is this guy?" 

Thankfully his boss didn't make instructors wear name tags.

Halfway through the climb, the young man reached the invert that had him dangling from the rock face almost completely upside down. Pushing his hips into the wall and securing his toe on a barely-there hold with the heel of the other hitched on a nearby grab, Eren paused to assess where he was in the climb and how he should proceed. 

Reiner must have changed the route over the weekend, hence his smug laughter when the brunette came in with his recreational gear on. Two of the blue holds that were supposed to be less than a foot away were now two feet above where they had once been pegged. 'Well fuck,' Eren cursed under his breath.

"Hey Armin," he called to his friend down below. "A little help. The guys changed the route on me."

Lifting his gaze up, the blonde squinted as he searched for a legal hold. "Move your left hand above the hump. There's a blue right on the edge with some good grip."

"I don't know if I can. It might extend me too far and my right leg could buckle."

"Well I can't see any other holds dude. This may be one that you have to dead-lift on."

"Fan-freaking-tastic," Eren grumbled from his spot sixty-five feet up. "Well, pull all the slack then in case I fall, 'kay."

"Got it," Armin confirmed then did a short hop as he raked in the extra length of rope with the help of his opposing body weight. "Good to go."

Looking over his shoulder then down, Eren marveled at how high up he really was. He should have been used to it by now; being that far off the ground. He had climbed almost every difficulty in that gym and had gone higher out in nature. Yet still, the view from up top struck both fear and wonder into him. One wrong move or slip of his shoes could have him falling to the mats below or eating shit on the wall. 

But after watching Jean scale the legendary D 5.11, which was now named the "Kirstein Twist", Eren was determined to nail this one. After all, it was his signature route.

With another deep calming breath, he trusted his friends' advice and went in blind for the grab hold. As Armin had said, the rock had enough build to it that it could support someone's full body weight. Heart racing, Eren let go of the wall and put his other hand on the hold. The moment he had, both legs came away from their grabs and he was now dangling in mid-air with only a rock the size of a hair brush to hold onto. 

Down below, he could hear Reiner and Bertolt whistling and shouting, "Kill it, Jaeger-bombastic!" The muscles in his arms screamed in protest as he slowly pulled up; feeling his teeth ache from how hard he was grinding them. It was painful and exhausting which meant the rest of the climb would be a bitch to conquer. But once he got his chest over the hump, the rest of the body followed with ease.

Taking a breather, Eren leaned over once Armin had pulled the slack tight and flipped off the two meatheads down below who had purposefully messed with his route.Those guys would find any excuse to screw with his climbs. Between them and Annie--who was the genius behind the naming joke--it was any wonder how they get anything done. 

Speaking of menacing blondes, it was at that moment that the woman herself came dropping through the air after completing the Kirstein Twist.

"Nice job kid," Annie said with a small chuckle. "Man, you look like absolute shit."

"You can thank you're ass-wipe brother."

"Reiner's just having fun is all. And how long have you been climbing? Seriously, stop looking so new in the knee's."

"Whatever. I'm ignoring you now," Eren excused himself as he turned back to the rockface.

"Yeah, yeah, do what you want. See you on the ground," Annie snorted then tugged on the other end of her rope to signal Reiner to finish lowering her.

Another twenty minutes and Eren had reached the top of the eighty foot climb. Tapping the last grab at the top three times as per his ritual, the brunette called to Armin to let him know he was going to start his drop. 

Pushing far enough away from the wall so that he wouldn't smack the larger jugs and holds, the young man breathed easy as he fell through the air fast enough that it made wisps of his chestnut brown hair dance. Every ten or so feet he had to use his leg to kick off from the wall because there were humps and raises from other routes that intersected with his.

Once he was back on the ground in one piece, he high-fived Armin then put a tally down on the scoreboard next to the route's name board. Despite it being his trail, Eren changed it every couple of days to upgrade the difficulty so that it never got boring or became easy. He always made sure it was at a C 5.10 or higher. Erasing the difficulty from the board, he changed it to read C 5.11 because the new hold Reiner had added in was a monster to get to and not everyone would be able to grab it.

On his way up to the front, Eren saw Jean and Marco at the sign-in. Clapping his friend on the back, the younger brunette told them to check out the route he had just finished. He knew that they both were sport climbers and liked laying down rope so they'd have to pull back the one he had laid down a half hour ago. But the new hold would definitely make it interesting. 

With Armin at his side, Eren exited into the lobby to get a Vitamin Water from the vending machine. Handing the first bottle over to his friend, he took the second then sat down on one of the colorful beanbag chairs in that littered the space.

"Man, that hurt more than I thought it would," Eren sighed.

"I'll bet," Armin chuckled, wiping the sweat from his face with the washcloth that was looped through a carabiner on his chalk belt. "I'm surprised your arm didn't pop off when you let go from the second hold. That blind grab was unreal man."

"Well just wait. I'm going to fuck with their routes the next day they both decide to take off. I'll replace all the jugs with split holds and gumball grabs."

"That's pretty savage."

"It's a dog eat dog world, Armin."

Laughing breathlessly, the blonde let his head fall back against the florescent orange beanbag. "So, how are things? I haven't seen you in half a millennia. What's new?"

"I'm dating Levi," Eren admitted knowing that it was best to get it out of the way and not try to hide it.

"Have you fucked?"

"Yeah."

"And?" the blonde said still looking at the ceiling but with an inquisitive lilt to his tone and a single arched brow.

"He's the best sex I've ever had. Guy, girl... No one compares. Half of the time I can't remember where I am once we're done."

"Damn," Armin murmured. Rolling his head to the side, he grinned playfully. "Looks like you found yourself a stallion."

"Looks like it."

"Apart from the phenomenal sex and you finally putting a lock-down on Ackerman, what else is going on? How's Grisha? You said his surgery is coming up. Are you flying home for it?"

Shifting in his seat, the brunette swallowed back the nerves that had began to build. "Yeah, I am. He doesn't want me to. Said there's no need for me to worry since it's just a small procedure but I can't not go."

"There he goes being all altruistic. I'm glad you're going though. Did you want me to tag along for support? Or is someone else taking you?"

"About that..." Eren muttered.

"Let me guess, Levi?"

"It's during a three-day weekend and he was there when I took the call--"

"Dude, it's fine," said the blonde with a humored smile. "I just wanted to make sure you had someone with you for support."

"Thanks Armin."

"Eh, it's nothing. I guess this'll be Ackerman's first time meeting Grisha."

"Actually no," Eren spoke between sips from the drink bottle. "Apparently Levi's parents were both cardiologists and had worked with my dad before. They even introduced him to Grisha when he was little so this'll be his second--no, third time meeting him. It'll just be his first time being introduced as my boyfriend."

"God, that's gotta be weird."

"Just a little. I wonder if dad'll put him through the ringer like he did with the first guy I brought home."

"Well Levi isn't a douche from what I can tell so probably not. He may play twenty questions with him though to see what he thinks of you. Grisha always did like playing head games with people."

"That was more along the lines of something mom did," Eren chuckled then slowly stopped. "I wonder what she would think if she met Levi."

"She would love him. Probably almost as much as she would love teasing him."

The brunette smirked fondly. "Yeah, that sounds like her alright. Anyway, how's gramps? Is he still in India or did he come back already?"

"He got back about two weeks ago but now he's getting ready for the cruise he's taking up to Alaska," Armin said with a long groaning sigh as he stretched out his arms and rolled his tense back. "I swear, ever since he retired he hasn't slowed down at all. If anything, he's more active than he was when he was practicing medicine."

"Probably where you got it from."

"I'm not that bad."

"Uh, yeah, you kinda are. I'd say you guys are just like each other. Maybe dating Alex will make you slow down a little."

"Maybe. Can't make any promises though since she's in the same program as me after all."

"I don't know. Familiarity can make the mind wander when certain situations arise.

Shaking his head, Armin chuckled low as his crystalline blue eyes mapped the patterns of changing light on the ceiling. It had been too long since the two of them had had a moment of rest and relaxation together. Eren was either busy with work or homework, but--more often than not--he was bogged down with the responsibilities his position on the newspaper hadn't mentioned in the fine print. Whenever someone fell through or couldn't deliver what was needed, it was left to the brunette to go and get the shots.

Life was hard enough as it was and often Armin wondered what it would take to make Eren snap. From what Jean had told him, the accident during JACCU had been his melting point.

It was hard to believe Grisha was sick or that his illness called for a series of surgeries and radiation therapy. The man from Armin's childhood was a man of great stature that towered above the large rose tree's Carla had planted in the garden of their front yard. Yet, despite his powerful appearance, Eren's father was kind and loving; he didn't have a hateful bone in his body but still had a taste for mischief. He never showed weakness or fell ill from what the blonde could remember. The fact that he, of all people, had cancer was an anomaly. However, Armin was pulled from his reverie by the low rumbling sound of Eren's hungry stomach.

"I think that's our queue to leave," Armin gave a humored smile. "You down for Thai?"

"I could go for some massaman curry. You thinking Siam Gardens?"

"Oh yeah."

"Alrighty," Eren shrugged away from the beanbag with a small grunt. Rolling his head from side to side, he then jerked his chin toward the door. "Let's go. You got all your gear, right?"

"Yup. Come on, let's get a move on before you self-cannibalize."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

The brief visit to the climbing gym had done little to quell the anxiety bubbling up inside Jean. In fifteen minutes, he would come face to face with the man and woman that had raised Marco. It was a big step and foreign in every sense of the word. Not once had his ex's introduced Jean to their parents. They were either too embarrassed and hadn't come out of the closet yet or didn't care enough to bring him deeper into their world. So the fact that Marco had not only told his parents about him but had gone into detail about the kind of person Jean was shook the photographer in a way he wasn't sure he'd ever get used to.

Doing his best to keep the promise he made to Marco, Jean relaxed in the living room trying to keep a lid on his rapid pulse by reviewing photo's from the last assignment he had gone out on. With his back pressed against the broadside of the couch and both legs crossed loosely in front of him, the young man slowly scanned through images from last weeks outing with the marine biology honors class. The students were supposed to be mapping sections of the inter-tidal zone but were often sidetracked by the "cute" wildlife that called the sandy dunes and rocky pools their home.

Smiling at a shot of the professor sneaking up on a student with the spiny side of a star fish ready to grab the guys' backhair, Jean laughed out loud when he moved onto the next shot when the student cried out in shock as the spines of the purple echinoderm latched on then pulled at the sensitive auburn fibers anchored to his skin. The man even dropped the maroon and green algae topped shoreline crab he had been examining when the professor decided to launch his attack. Jean could still see the small crustacean scurrying away to take shelter under a hulking barnacle encrusted mass of rocks.

Stuck in the memory, Jean had not noticed the lone figure approaching the glass slider door to his left. He was too in the zone to pay it any heed even as it glided open. Yet, the peace came to a close when a massive creamy white Maremma sheepdog came barreling up to Jean with every intent of licking his face raw.

The moment the animals flat slick tongue made contact with his cheek and ear, the photographer tumbled to the side with wide eyes and a reactive gasp. It wasn't that he did not like dogs but the sudden appearance of one in a house that was clearly animal free set alarms off in Jeans' head. However, when he tried to move back, the large animated teddy bear of a beast planted its paws firmly on his chest--effectively pinning him to the ground.

"What the f--" Jean strained under the gargantuan ball of fluff yet was cut off mid-sentence when Marco entered the space. 

"Kelii, down," Marco ordered from the other end of the room. 

The brunette had stepped into the garage for only a moment but a moment was all it took for the dog and its owner to ambush them. 

Entering behind the animal was a short slender woman in her mid to late forties with long flowing black hair and tan freckled skin dressed in white linen pants matching peasant top, and a large straw hat. She had a delicately pointed chin and a smile as bright as the sun on a clear day. The woman was beautiful; looking younger than her years, betrayed only by the stray grey hairs here and there. But it wasn't until Jean saw the familiar sparkling brown eyes that sat hidden by the thick line of lashes that Jean knew who she was.

"Hola o'hilo," the woman beamed brightly as she latched onto Marco. Wrapping him up in her long slender arms, she pulled away so that she could reach up and hold his face in her hands. "Ah, ka'u bebe keiki," she spoke with such affection in her tone. "I hulina lilo oe."

"Au hala oe kekahi makuahine," Marco smiled with his eyes closed while he soaked in the moment. When those warm pools of chocolate brown reappeared, they flickered to his lover. "Mom, this is Jean Kirstein."

"So you're the young man that has my baby all worked up," she grinned the same grin that Jean normally attributed to Ymir. As the dog ran off outside, the woman extended her hand to the downed young man. "Aulani," she chuckled as he took her hand to help him up. "I'm Marco's mother."

Forcing back the nerves that were now screaming, he managed to return the smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"You are just as handsome in person as you are in the photo's Marco sent me. Oh, and now you're blushing," Aulani laughed lightheartedly, giving the young man a gentle smack on the shoulder. "You are too precious." Hooking her arm with Jean's, the mother glanced to her son with knowing look. "Hon, tell your father and sister that I'll be on the back patio talking to Jean."

The brunette's eyes darted between his mother and partner. It was wiser to let the woman do what she wanted instead of trying to fight it. They had nothing to hide and it wasn't as if the two men were in high school and had to hide some of their "extra curricular" activities from his parents. With a sigh, Marco agreed. Kissing Jean on the cheek, he whispered 'just be honest and relax and you'll be fine' in his lovers' ear before letting go of the free hand he had taken in his. Turning on his heels, the brunette exited the room leaving the photographer alone with his sly mother.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

Jean shouldn't have been as nervous as he was sitting across the table from Aulani, especially after Marco had told him multiple times before that she already approved of their relationship. Yet, despite her slim and decidedly feminine appearance, a fierce presence roared beneath those warm honey brown eyes and girlish smile. The woman wasn't just any alpha female. She was like his mother Simone, an "alpha prime" that could bring anyone--man or woman--to their knees with fear and trembling without having to so much as utter a word. A glance was all it took to reduce the strongest of hearts to a pile of rubble.

Rudyard Kipling had it right when he said that the female of the species is deadlier than the male. 

While their exterior may appear delicate compared to a mans', the fire in their eyes was that of tact and domination. Jean had no doubt in his mind that women were entirely capable of conquering the world or that, if it ever were to happen, Marco's mother would be on the imaginative board of individuals charged with documenting the sweet dissolution of man.

But until that day came, she looked quiet happy playing the role of mother, bread winner, and power-player all while sporting a pair of strappy white sandal high heels.

"Don't look so nervous Jean," Aulani chuckled as she placed a bottle of coca-cola down in front of him that she had retrieved from the outdoor fridge. "This isn't an inquisition and you aren't on trial; that was Ymir's job."

Despite her laughter, he couldn't help but catch the truism in the last bit of her statement. "Sorry. I'm just not good when it comes to things like this."

"Well relax sugar. I just want to get to know the man that's put the pep back in my sons' step. You know it's been a while since he's been this happy. I can't remember the last time I saw him wearing a smile that bright."

"I don't think it's all my doing to be honest," Jean said as he took a sip from the soda bottle. Reclining into his seat, he knitted his fingers together with both eyes on the white metal beams showing through the beveled glass of the table top. "If anything, he's the one that's made me the happiest I've been in...I can't even remember how long, actually. He's so kind and strange and always finds a way to surprise me. I can't imagine him being any other way."

"I take it your previous boyfriends were a real piece of work."

Smirking sadly, the young man nodded. "You could say that. The first guy was nice enough but we lost interest in the relationship after the fifth month. There weren't any hard feelings when we broke up. But," he paused taking a deep breath then released it in a long sigh. Shaking his head, he frowned. "The second guy was the biggest mistake I had ever made. He was one of the reasons I moved to California and one of the few things in my life I wish I could forget. Sorry if this is getting too heavy. I didn't mean to--"

"Don't apologize Jean. I said I wanted to get to know you so tell me whatever you want. I promise, I don't scare easy," Aulani winked as she took a drink from her coke bottle.

"Fearlessness runs in the family I suppose."

"Oh it does. My babies were more of a handful than most others because of it. I blame their father though. He's the one that stuck them on a surfboard before they had grown out of their baby weight."

"Marco told me about that," he chuckled. "It's funny though because, from the way he put it, he made it out like all of you were surfers."

"Well we are but that doesn't excuse taking a six year old boy surfing on the North Shore."

"No, I suppose it doesn't." Letting the sound of waves crashing along the shore in the near distance paint the silence between them, Jean clicked his tongue before asking his next question. "I was wondering..."

"Yes?"

"You said it had been a while since Marco has been this happy. Why is that? Was it because of his ex? Or is it something else?"

"It was a number of things. Part of it was his break-up with Kitty. He had transferred to Santa Barbara after the blow up thinking it'd be a chance to start fresh. But his way of handling things back then was to work himself into exhaustion while ignoring everyone around him. He didn't know anyone except for his sister but even then, he pushed Ymir to the side. It was his way of being chivalrous I suppose," Aulani sighed as if the memory itself frustrated her. "Things became much worse after his accident though."

"You mean the one at Maverick's?"

She shook her head; her expression softening. "That was the first time he had ever been knocked from his board. There were times when I would watch him fly across the water and wonder if that was my son or an ocean spirit. But that terrible afternoon not only proved me wrong but it almost robbed me of my boy. Even after he had been pulled from the water and recovered from his injuries, something had died in him. He wasn't the same child I had raised. The Marco I knew was brave and courageous. After the accident, he stayed as far from the beach as he could. He didn't smile; not honestly at least. It broke my heart because it was like living with a ghost."

"Holy shit," Jean muttered disbelievingly under his breath. Marco had told him that life was rough after the accident but he hadn't told him how horrible it was. "That doesn't sound anything like him."

"Even the strongest people fall down sometimes. But eventually, he came around. He got involved with the media arts department and met Levi, Marlo, and Hitch. But he still wouldn't pick up a board or swim in the ocean. He was like that for years."

"What happened? He's surfing now so something must have changed."

"I wish I could tell you but that is one of the few things my son hasn't clued me in on. He's usually an open book but this time," Aulani paused. "This time it's a mystery. I just remember him calling me in the morning sometime in early February to tell me that he finally got back on his board."

"February? You mean February this year?"

"Yes."

"So he hasn't surfed in not two years, but three?"

"That's right."

"That's not possible..."

"It really feels that way, doesn't it. I couldn't believe it myself but it's true."

Aulani continued speaking but part of Jean had already checked out. Marco hadn't surfed in three years but picked it back up in February; the same month he moved in? That couldn't be right. He looked too comfortable on his board for that information to be correct. 

Zoning in and out of the conversation, the young man did his best to pay attention to the topic at hand. For the next couple of hours, Jean and Aulani discussed everything from his choice of major to his favorite movies and genre of music. As they talked, he became more comfortable in the womans' presence. Like Marco, she was funny, exceptionally bright-minded, and easy to get along with. She had all the charisma of both her children and twice their wit. Aulani even laughed like them; her small nose bunching up with little wrinkles whenever her laughter got out of hand. 

It wasn't hard to see what kind of person she was or why her children loved her so dearly. Strong of mind but kind of heart, the woman was the backbone of the family. The keeper of memories as Marco had once called her, Aulani happily regaled Jean with stories of her children from youth to early adulthood. She couldn't contain herself when she told him about the night she caught Marco's high school sweetheart sneaking in through the bathroom window on the second floor. Both of the young men had looked so horrified that they had been caught that she half expected them to die of embarrassment. 

"They probably did die on the inside when I sat them down for the talk afterwards," Aulani mused with a chuckle. "The look on their faces when I told them what happens when a man loves another man was somewhere between abject fear and disgust."

"Well he probably wasn't expecting you to be so open about it," Jean smiled faintly.

"Maybe, but it doesn't matter to me what reproductive organs his partner has. He's still my son, that'll never change."

Feeling a twinge of sadness that his own mother wasn't as forward thinking, the young man tried to keep his smile sincere. "Marco's very lucky to have you. I'm sure he knows that already though."

"Know's what?" Marco chimed as he slid the patio door open. "You two have been MIA for a while so dad and Ymir wanted me to check and see if you're still alive."

"Don't you lie Marco Bott," his mother said with the same knowing look she had worn an hour ago. "You want to know what I'm up to and if I've scared your boyfriend."

"Maybe," the brunette flashed a fox-like smile as he sat down next to Jean; taking the young mans' hand in his and weaving their fingers together. "So what horrible things has she told you? Anything good?"

"Aulani told me about you trying to sneak your first boyfriend in through the second-floor bathroom."

"Of course she did."

Smiling as he watched the lines form across Marco's nose when he laughed, Jean bit his lip and gave his partners' hand a gentle squeeze. "She also told me about how you used to swim with pods of migrating whales and that your biggest fear is being struck by lightning."

"Thanks mom for the emasculation," Marco joked, not meaning a word of it. "Anything else?"

"Not really. By the way, why didn't you tell me she was an imagineer for Disney?"

"Wait, I thought I told you that."

"Nope. You told me your parents worked on movies together or something like that."

"Huh," the brunette muttered with a puzzled brow. Shrugging, he looked to his partner with a boyish grin. "Well now you know. Anyway, I really am here because dad sent me to collect you guys. He's treating everyone to an early dinner even though I told him I was going to cook. So, as much as I would love to let you two bat the ball around, Jean and I have to change. I also doubt that the place we're going to will allow big dogs so you and Ymir should drop Kelii off at her place."

With a smirk, Aulani polished off her third drink; this time a hard cider. "Alright, I can take a hint. I'll see you two in a bit." Walking around the table, she brushed the hair back from Marco's forehead then placed a sweet gentle kiss on the smooth skin. "Aloha oe ka meli."

"Aloha ia 'oe kekahi," the brunette said back with a tender smile when she kissed his nose. "Call my cell when you guys are driving over to pick up."

"Alright. See you in a little while Jean."

"You too, Aulani," the younger man nodded with a genuine smile.

When the woman had left, accompanied by her husband and Ymir, the two quietly made their way inside. Reaching the bedroom, Jean opened the walk-in closet and clicked on the light. As he removed his shirt and slipped out of his worn through jeans, Marco entered the space--smacking his partner lovingly on the backside as he passed by. Chuckling, the photographer switched in to a pair of black slim jeans, a tailored chambray button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a pair of maroon low-tops. 

As he fastened the second to last button on his shirt, the photographer felt a pair of strong arms wrap around him from behind; both hands holding his sides tight. Kissing Jean's shoulder, Marco nuzzled in the crook of his neck while releasing a small content sigh. It was endearing how greatly the brunette enjoyed the little things like holding hands and sharing quiet moments together as if he were still a love-struck teenager. That kind of love was something Jean had never experienced; not even when he himself was a teenager. Everything about their relationship was new and exciting to him and, at times, it made him melt on the inside from the sugary sweetness of it all.

While holding on to Marco's arms around his stomach with one hand, Jean lifted his left arm so that he could comb his fingers through his lovers' silken brown hair. It was soft to the touch but thick and wavy like his mothers. He remembered how stunned he was when he first saw the woman. She looked just like her son yet completely different. Their eyes were the same but hers were more probing while Marco's were warm and inviting. Both of them had the same nose, smile, freckles, and joyful laughter but, again, it wasn't the same because there was an unidentifiable aspect of all of those characteristics that made them unique to Marco.

Hanging on to the photographer as affectionately as he was right now, it was hard to believe that the brunette had gone through such a strong period of depression. Imagining Marco without a smile on his face was like trying to imagine the world without sunshine. It felt wrong and foreign to Jean. Thankfully that had changed, and fairly recently for that matter.

"Hey Marco," Jean breathed with a gentleness that he reserved for his lover and him alone. "When did you pick up surfing again? After the accident I mean."

Rolling his head away from the sweet smelling skin of his lovers' neck, Marco balanced his chin on the mans' shoulder. "Why?"

"Just curious. Your mom mentioned that you hadn't gone out in years then, all of a sudden, you called her one day telling her that you started surfing again."

Staring off into space for a long moment, the brunette thought about his words carefully before he spoke. "You remember the time when we first met on the beach? That was the day."

Jean could feel his heart catch and his stomach knot. The morning they met was the day Marco had decided to start surfing again? On that day, out of the hundreds in a year, the stars decided to line up so that their paths would cross. It was too coincidental to believe that on that morning, the man he was currently holding would overcome his fear of the sport that had betrayed him and be in the same place as Jean and at the same time. The chances of them meeting on that day were a million to one but, by the power of some cosmic incident, their lives had collided.

Turning around in the other mans' arms, the photographer took the brunette's face in his hands to pull him into a deep adoring kiss. If God existed, this revelation was proof of it. Jean had fled New York to escape his past; his mother and the nightmares from his last relationship driving him all the way to the beach front city he now called home. Never had he once thought that he would meet the love of his life here. This place, that had--at one point--symbolized his self-imposed exile from society, was now a safe haven. And on that rocky shore on that cold and quiet morning in February, Jean came face to face with the man he hoped to one day grow old with. It was wild, the chances of it all happening just as they apparently had but it was the truth.

"Marco," Jean whispered against the mans' lips as he parted just enough so that he could speak. "I don't know what I did to deserve this kind of happiness but I promise you this, I will always love you. Whether you're rich or poor, old, bed-ridden, or falling to pieces, I will always love you. I promise."

Pressing their foreheads together, Marco smiled while shyly biting the bottom corner of his lip. "You know," he said in a low tone that mirrored his lovers' as his arms tightened around the young mans' waist, "that almost sounded like a marriage proposal."

"One day it will be," Jean spoke, his lips brushing Marco's though their shared gaze never once broke. "You're mine Marco Bott."

"And you're mine Jean Kirstein."

"Yes I am," the younger man smiled as their lips finally met for another long loving kiss. "So don't ever let me go."

"Never," the brunette muttered against his lovers' mouth. "I promise." Kissing Jean again, Marco closed his eyes and took a deep soothing breath, appreciating how the other mans' scent lingered in the space between them. "Aloha wau ia 'oe."

"What does that mean?" Jean laughed softly as the brunette's cool breath washed over him, carrying the faint smell of mint on it.

With a chuckle, Marco placed a small peck on his nose and forehead. "I'll tell you later."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The drive to the mystery restaurant that Marco's father, Hector had selected was less than twenty minutes but the atmosphere made the experience one of the most memorable car rides of Jeans' life. Openly holding hands in the back seat of the red Grand Cherokee the couple had rented, the photographer felt like he was living the teenage dream he had missed out on but always hoped for. Leaning into Marco, he laughed as Ymir argued with her father about why Blondie couldn't compare to Joan Jett's vocal superiority. Every once in a while, Aulani would chime in only to stir the pot. Her sense of mischief was definitely something both her children had inherited from her side of the family.

In between questions both parents took turns asking, Jean and Marco would exchange kisses as if it were the most natural thing for them to do. The younger man loved how easy it was to be with the brunette. Without the fear of judgement or ridicule weighing down on him, Jean could feel himself relaxing and openly embracing his sexuality for the first time in a long time. This must have been why both Ymir and Marco were so easy-going and accepting of others. Being raised in this kind of household would only breed understanding. If only Jean had been lucky enough to have their upbringing. Still, his partner loved him the way he was and had never once asked him to change who he was.

Pulling up to a white adobe restaurant with a Spanish riviera styled tile roof, Jean's heart almost stopped when he read the name. 'Los Agaves,' he gawked. 'You got to be kidding me.' Of all the places they could have dined at, his partners' father chose the restaurant named after the plant that could kill him. He knew the man hadn't done it out of spite but still, it was ironic. Hopefully they didn't put agave on everything or else Jean would be forced to use his EpiPen.

"Don't worry," Marco said with an obvious playfulness to his tone. "The restaurant is just named Los Agaves. They don't really put it on anything so you're safe."

"Well that's reassuring," Jean laughed, purposefully knocking his elbow against Marco's.

Reacting to the mood, the brunette went the extra mile and stretched the hand that had once been holding Jeans' across his lovers waist and secured it on his hip; his thumb hooked in the empty belt loop on his left side. Beaming from ear to ear, the photographer wrapped his arm around Marco, slipping his hand into the right-hand back pocket of the mans' jeans. Ymir caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. Jokingly, she told them to stop groping each other in public to which her brother retorted by pulling Jean closer to him so that there wasn't even a fraction of space between their bodies.

"God, you guys are too much," she groaned with a roll of her eyes.

Despite his sisters' inability to digest how sweet they were on each other, this was a number of "firsts" for them as a couple. This was Jeans' first time going out with him and his family. This was also his lovers' first time being so comfortable displaying his sexuality in public. Usually, the shy photographer would draw the line at anything beyond hand-holding and small kisses in public settings unless he was at a party where the people were well on their way to hammered. However, right now Jean was pressing into his side with his hand in Marco's back-pocket in a way that, if he flexed his fingers just the smallest bit, could technically be considered groping. And that relaxed smile on the young mans' face meant the world to the brunette. So Ymir could complain about their PDA all she wanted because he wasn't about to change a thing.

A half hour after they had sat down, the appetizers came rolling out. From homemade guacamole and warm tortilla chips and salsa to queso fundido made with three different fire roasted chili's and zucchini blossoms stuffed with three cheese's topped with pico de gallo and sour cream, the spread was massive. As a struggling college student, it was Jeans' first instinct to look at the prices. But before he could, Marco told him not to worry about it because his father and mother were going to insist on paying and by insist he meant they would force anyone who dared pay the bill into submission. The routine had become so normal to the Bott siblings that they had stopped trying to fight their parents for the bill years ago.

While they ate, the conversations continued back and forth in a natural flow. Ymir bantered with Hector about when she was going to finally move in with Krista to which his daughter sneered, 'I'm working on it.' In between bites of his burrito mojado, Jean happily accepted the pieces of carne asada Marco offered him on the tip of his fork. As the young man chewed, the brunette would slip small kisses on the cheek; showing no shame even when Ymir told them to get a room. It was the most fun the photographer had had in years because it was so easy to cut loose and not care.

"So have either of you decided if you're going to sign-up for the Australia Open?" Hector asked nonchalantly as he wiped his mouth with the black linen napkin sitting on his lap.

Pausing to clear her mouth of any food, Ymir was first to answer. "Georgina has already called me with the invitation that was left in her inbox for me."

"And?"

"The first event falls on a Saturday after graduation so I'm going to go. I don't know about pua'a though."

"Marco?" Hector said, suddenly focusing on his son. The man's intense umber gaze was enough to send chills up Jean's spine yet his son didn't react so strongly. "How about you?"

Glancing to Jean, the brunette shifted uncomfortably. He knew Jean had become conscious, more like nervous, wherever surfing was concerned after he had heard the details of his accident. It was precisely for that reason that Marco hadn't told him about the invitational he had gotten a week ago from his agent. The Australia Open was one of the biggest events in the professional surfing community because it was the first step toward qualifying for the Triple Crown and came with the prestige of riding some of the largest waves in the world.

"Umm, I haven't really given it much thought."

"But you got your invitation, correct?"

"Yeah. But I wanted to think it over. I have a lot coming up and I'm not sure if I can fit it into my schedule."

"Your schedule? Marco, it's after graduation," Ymir stated matter-of-factly while quizzically eyeing her brother up and down. "All of our exams will be over so what's stopping you?"

"I just want to think it over is all," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Catching on faster than the others, Jean felt like he shouldn't bring it up but couldn't let what he was going to say go unsaid. "Is this because you asked me to move in with you at the end of May?"

"Wait, you what?" Ymir snapped, eyes wide and disbelieving.

Muttering 'shit' under his breath, the brunette shot Jean a pointed gaze only to receive one in return. "Well now that you've put it out there, yes Ymir, I asked him to move in and it is only a small part of why I am waiting to reply to the invitation."

"But it is part of the reason," Jean pushed as he folded his arms across his chest. "Damn it Marco, you love surfing and I don't want to stop you from going to the Australia Open. We can postpone moving in for a week or so if it helps but I don't want to hold you back."

"It's not just that Jean."

"Then what is it?"

Looking from his parents to his sister then Jean, Marco sighed. "I just don't think I'm ready yet. I'm still shaky on my cutbacks and my aerials blow in comparison to what they used to be."

"So we'll go out and practice," the photographer said as if it were obvious and everyone else were just grasping at straws. "I can even use the rapid-shot setting on my camera to photograph each move frame by frame so you can see the parts that need to be worked on."

"What about work? You can't cut class babe and spring break isn't going to be around for much longer."

"I usually work from home, you know that. And we can practice on the weekends if we can't fit it in during the week."

"You know, he's starting to make sense," Ymir mumbled past the bite of skirt steak she was chewing. "That's not a bad idea pua'a. With Jeany catching you in action frame by frame, you can tune anything that's fallen to the wayside and polish up your technique."

Sighing as he pinched the space between his eyes, Marco gave in. "Jean, are you really okay with this?"

"I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't."

"Fine, you win," he groaned while fully aware that his partner was smiling brighter than he was before. "But only if you come with me to the event."

"And when is that?"

"The third week of June but I have to be there a few days before the open because I have been out for so long that I have to get through the qualifiers first."

"Well tell me the days and I'll put in for the time off."

"Ugh, just put a ring on him already Marco and call if a fucking day," Ymir feigned annoyance as she pushed away from the table. "I'm going to the restroom then I'm grabbing a drink from the bar. Do you guys want anything?"

When they all, their own way, said 'no,' the young woman excused herself and wandered out of sight toward that ladies room. Moments after Ymir had vanished, Jean felt his phone go off. Removing the device from his back-pocket, he studied the number on the screen. He didn't recognize all of it but the area code was for Manhattan. Assuming that Charlotte was either calling from her new apartment or had lost her phone and needed to call him for some odd-ball reason, the young man politely told the others at the table that he had to take the call. Kissing Marco quickly on the lips, he told him he would be right back.

Yet, the moment Jean exited the front doors of the restaurant and answered the call he wished he had let it go to voicemail.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been between ten and fifteen minutes since Jean had left and Marco, Aulani and Hector were beginning to worry. Even Ymir looked a little confused as to what was taking the guy so long. With the time it had already taken from their evening, Marco assumed that it was likely a family call since it wasn't like Jean to duck out of dinners prematurely without good reason. He had been raised like a white collar aristocrat so, despite his humble personality, the manners and etiquette was still there.

"I'm going to go see if he's alright," the brunette finally decided, having enough of the suspense.

"Let us know if it's something urgent, okay?" Aulani said wearing more than just a little bit of concern on her face. "If he needs to leave early we can drop him off at the house."

Nodding, Marco left the table and headed toward the front entrance. Exiting the building, the sun had already set which left the sky painted royal blue and deep indigo. As the street lights came on, the man strained his eyes to see since they were still adjusting to the lower level of illumination. It didn't take long to locate his missing other half when a low pained groan sounded to his immediate left.

Walking around the curve of the white facade to the outdoor wait area, the brunette found Jean crouched down; clutching his sides tightly and breathing in a rapid abnormal manner. Knowing within seconds what was happening, Marco knelt down on his knees next to the young man then placed both hands on his shoulders. When Jean didn't respond--only whimpering as the pain in his chest grew--the brunette's concern turned to fear.

"Baby," Marco choked out as he held Jean's face in his hands. "I'm right here so tell me what you need. Just one word is all you have to say."

"Air," Jean rasped as a dull yet powerful rolling pain pressed against his ribs.

"Air?"

"Marco," he spoke, this time choking on the strangled syllables. "Marco I can't breathe."

As the words left his lips, Jean's lungs seized as the pain in his chest spiked and ripped at the muscles in his sternum. He collapsed on the ground, gasping for air while his face contorted from the immense agony he was in. It were as though something had come alive in his body cavity and was trying to escape by breaking each and every bone in its way. He knew that wasn't what was really happening though. 

What was actually going on was that the call he had just taken caused his heart to fall into a stress-induced ventricular arrhythmia which was veering on the edge of what felt like fibrillation. This had only happened once, back during his first year of junior college when the person he had just spoken to destroyed the thin veneer of happiness he had had at the time. Now, that ghost was coming back to claim him for good. He could feel his pulse race, sending hot angry blood shooting through his straining vessels and arteries. It was painful to breathe and the color of the dark blue sky blurred with the orange glow of the street lamps as his vision failed.

Falling into Marco's shaking arms, Jean tried to stay awake but the arduous task of remaining conscious was wearing him down. His heart slammed mercilessly in his chest as if it were quite literally going to break free at any moment. Reaching up, he cupped the side of his lovers frightened yet still beautiful face. As Marco told the two men who had come out earlier to call 911, he felt a cold damp hand brush his cheek. 

Securing his hand over the top of Jean's, Marco forced himself to remain calm. "It's going to be alright baby. Just hang on," he choked, his eyes betraying him. "You'll be fine. Help is coming, 'kay?"

"Marco, it hurts."

"I know, Jean but it'll be over soon. You just got to hang in there and stay awake. Just keep your eyes on me."

As Marco began to cry, Aulani and Hector came outside to see what everyone was making a big fuss over. When they saw Jean looking like he had one foot in the grave as he laid in their sons' arms, the parents rushed to aid the two men. But there was only so much that could be done without a paramedic. Rapidly falling into ventricular fibrillation, Jean's beautiful amber eyes closed as his breathing stuttered and his pulse spiraled. As the sirens blared in the distance, the world became void of sound except for his shallow abnormal gasps and Marco's crying.

Jean could feel his lover trying to bring him back; to wake him up but the pain kept him under. Hot drops--tear drops--fell on his cheeks and rolled down his cold clammy skin. His body shook as Marco lost it and began to weep, ordering the young man in his arms to come back; that he couldn't leave him because they had promised each other they wouldn't.

Then came the words that Jean took with him into his deep sleep.

"I love you..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has music they listen to when they are in one of those moods. Here is Jean's playlist for the days when the going gets rough and he just wants to blow off some steam but relaxing won't work. You'll notice how much of a musical omnivore he really is here.
> 
>  
> 
> \--FUCK IT--
> 
> -"Alive" by Sia  
> -"Bird Set Free" by Sia  
> -"Misery Loves Company" by Emilie Autumn  
> -"Rose Red" by Emilie Autumn  
> -"It's Over Casanova" by Lights  
> -"Diamond Days" by Cruel Youth  
> -"Sugar, We're Goin' Down" by Fall Out Boy  
> -"Holiday" by Green Day  
> -"Give Me Novacaine/She's A Rebel" by Green Day  
> -"Jesus Of Suburbia" by Green Day  
> -"21 Guns" by Green Day  
> -"Heathens (Halloween Mashup)" by Twenty-One Pilots feat. Evanescence  
> -"Fiction" by Avenged Sevenfold  
> -"The Beast And The Harlot" by Avenged Sevenfold  
> -"Bleed Like Me" by Garbage  
> -"Clint Eastwood" by Gorillaz  
> -"Feel Good Inc." by Gorillaz  
> -"Every Planet We Reach Is Dead" by Gorillaz  
> -"O Green World" by Gorillaz  
> -"Love Me Dead" by Gorillaz  
> -"Cupid Carries A Gun" by Marilyn Manson  
> -"Sweet Dreams" by Marilyn Manson  
> -"Beautiful People" by Marilyn Manson"  
> -"The Death And Resurrection Show" by The Killing Joke  
> -"Faggot" by Mindless Self Indulgence  
> -"Lights Out" by Mindless Self Indulgence  
> -"Smells Like Teen Spirit" by Nirvana  
> -"In Bloom" by Nirvana  
> -"Lithium" by Nirvana  
> -"Heart Shaped Box" by Nirvana  
> -"Weak & Powerless (Tilling My Own Grave Remix)" by A Perfect Circle  
> -"Werewolf Women Of The SS" by Rob Zombie  
> -"Pussy Liquor" by Rob Zombie  
> -"Living Dead Girl" by Rob Zombie  
> -"The Little Things" by Danny Elfman  
> -"Get Back" by Ludacris  
> -"White America" by Eminem  
> -"Love The Way You Lie" by Eminem feat. Rihanna  
> -"Ain't No Grave" by Johnny Cash  
> -"Avenue Of Hope" by I Am Kloot  
> -"Into The Fire" by Thirteen Senses  
> -"Down On My Head" by Yellowcard  
> -"City Of Devils" by Yellowcard  
> -"Words, Hands, Hearts" by Yellowcard  
> -"Holly Wood Died" by Yellowcard  
> -"Three Flights Down" by Yellowcard


	13. Come back and haunt me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean is rushed to the hospital for treatment, Marco struggles to stay optimistic even with his family there for support, the couple confronts the skeletons in Jean's closet and come to a decision about their relationship...
> 
>  
> 
> \---WARNING! WARNING!: There will be triggers and in this chapter which is why the tags will be changing with this installment. These themes include past emotional neglect/abuse, rape/non-canon, depression, and mentions of suicidal thoughts. I promise you guys, this won't be a permanent stay in the story but it's part of a certain characters' history so it's got to come out. So hang in there, 'kay.
> 
>  
> 
> \---PLAYLIST!: Here's another playlist that was generously assembled by FunnyPoeple. Thanks again, mate. <3
> 
> \--Jean's "Time Out List": https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLvWD-reIJKidffDtgO5cdJFO07BAqt3cQ

"He's going into v-fib," the medic said as she assessed Jean who laid motionless on the ground. "Get me the defibrillator."

While the EMT ran to the ambulance to retrieve the small portable unit, the driver--another EMT--asked Marco what exactly had happened; telling him to recall the events in chronological order. Yet as his mind grappled with the words being spoken to him, his mouth failed to form a single sentence. He watched as the unbuttoned Jeans' shirt and placed two conductor pads on his chest; one above the sternum and the other over his left row of ribs. She zapped him once but there wasn't any response. 

"Charge it to three hundred," she ordered. When that didn't work, the woman shook her head. "Charge it again."

Marco could feel his throat close and his own heart freeze as he watched the two women on the ground work tirelessly to resuscitate his partner. On the fourth jolt, there came a pulse. It was weak, erratic, and on the verge of falling back into v-fib but it was something. 'Why is this happening?' the brunette asked himself. 'This isn't supposed to be happening. He can't die. Jean promised.' Marco wanted to collapse; to fall to his knees and sob until his body was wrung dry. But there he stood watching the man he loved die.

"Don't let him die," Marco choked. "Please...don't let him die."

"We are doing our best sir but we have to take down your statement since you were the only person present when he went into arrest," the male EMT said.

"Arrest? You mean cardiac arrest?"

"Yes sir."

"Wait, so he's having a heart attack?" the brunette's eyes widened from fear. "That's not possible. He's only twenty-two. He's not old enough to have a heart attack."

"Sir, I need you to calm down and tell me what happened. The medic has stabilized your..."

"Fiance," Marco said without thinking. "We were celebrating our engagement tonight."

"Well the medic has stabilized your fiance so, if you can remain calm, you can ride in the back of the ambulance with him. But on the way to the hospital, we need to take down your statement."

"Fine, whatever you need. Just save him."

Nodding, the man turned away to inform the two women that they needed to get going once they had stabilized the patient. As Marco watched the team prepare to move Jean onto a padded stretcher he felt numerous eyes burning holes into his back. Behind him was Ymir with her mouth hanging open and his parents wearing expressions of complete utter shock. He knew what they were thinking. It was so obvious that it almost made him laugh at how naive they were. But he couldn't find the energy to tease or to smile or laugh.

"If I didn't tell them we were engaged, they wouldn't let me ride with him," Marco sighed as the group of three closed in on him.

"Marco," Aulani spoke in a hush tone. "You didn't tell me you proposed."

"I didn't," he growled under his breathe, still fighting back tears. "I just told you why I had to say that. Fucking listen for God's sake."

"Marco Keani Bott," Hector snapped but was shushed by his wife.

"I'm sorry baby," the older woman said as she smoothed the hair from his face. "I just was in shock to hear you say that."

"You really shouldn't be though," he chuckled; much to his surprise. Looking up at his mother, Marco sniffed as tears ran down his face. "He's everything to me. Of course I'd want to marry him. But I can't if he dies, you know."

Reaching out, Aulani collected him into her arms and gave him a kiss on the head. "My poor boy. It's alright. The doctors will be able to fix him up at the hospital."

"He's not a car, mom."

"I know but, I don't know what else to say."

"Don't say anything," he rasped as he pulled away from her. "Just let me be like this for a bit. Please?"

Aulani shook her head as the driver came walking up to them. Informing Marco that it was time to go, the man told his parents and sister that Jean was being taken to Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital. It was only a twelve minute drive and the center was renowned for its intervention program to stop and prevent heart attacks. Hugging his mother, father, and sister, Marco followed the man to the ambulance. After he slid in, the cabin doors closed and the siren blared as they left the restaurant parking lot.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Jean faded in and out of consciousness as his heart struggled to keep going. He had never had a heart attack before; well, at least not like this he hadn't. The closest he got was years ago before he left New York. Through the fog, he could remember lying on his bedroom floor gasping for air as his lungs gradually stopped working. He could feel his pulse still itself as it did this time. However, back then, he laid on the ground waiting to die. He didn't call for help or scream to get someone's attention because he didn't want to live. 

All the pressure, pain, anxiety, and shame he carried with him each and every day had broken his spirit. Jean didn't have a reason to live or a reason to fight. So he gave in and let his heart stop. If it hadn't been for Charlotte, who had--by chance alone--came into his room to borrow a t-shirt, he would have died that day. It was because of her quick thinking and strong punch to his chest that his heart began to beat again. She gave him a second chance. For what, he didn't know; not for a while at least. But now Jean knew. He knew why God had rejected him and forced him to keep on breathing; to keep living and that reason was holding him tightly by the hand while struggling to keep his tears back.

"Marco?" Jean groaned, his normally smooth mellow voice now dry and gravelly. "What's happening? Why do I have an oxygen feed on me?"

"Try not to move babe. You had a heart attack outside of the restaurant. We're on our way to the hospital okay," Marco said with as much strength and confidence as he could muster. "Don't worry, I'm right here."

"He's right," the medic added from across the cabin. Looking away from the monitor screen, she smiled softly. "Your fiance hasn't left your side since we got to you. I'm sorry that this had to happen on your big night. I'm sure you'll have another chance to celebrate your engagement once the doctors release you from the hospital."

"W-wait, what?" Jean stuttered as he looked from the woman to Marco. "You...you what? Wait when did--?"

"I had to tell her about it or they wouldn't have let me stay with you."

"Marco..." the young man gasped as his heart began to speed up again. "I-I can't breathe. I can't..."

"He's seizing again," the woman stated coldly as she pulled their hands apart so that the brunette wouldn't risk injury. "Sir, I need you to talk to him so that he stays calm. If he panics, he'll go into arrest."

Frozen in place, Marco could see the overwhelming fear in Jeans' eyes. He had never seen him that afraid; not even after the incident with Eren and Levi in San Francisco. Those eyes that he loved so dearly were now staring back at him with a silent plea for help. They called to him. Told him he was needed; that if he didn't say something Jean's condition would worsen. So Marco forced his brain to work and his hands to cup the young mans' face; his mouth quivering in his grasp. Their eyes locked and, suddenly, it was just them. No one else existed but the two of them and the warmth that blossomed between the men.

"Jean, listen to me," Marco breathed. "You have to relax and concentrate on slowing down your heart. Remember our first night together, the night you said you loved me? Remember how your heart was hurting later on? Try to force it to slow down like you did then. I'm right here, 'kay."

"M-Marco," Jean said as tears rolled out from the corners of his eyes. "Marco, I'm scared. I don't want to go yet. I'm n-not...not done loving you."

"You're not going anywhere baby, and neither am I," the brunette smiled. Pressing their foreheads together, he blocked out the sound of the monitor spiking higher and higher. "Please Jean, you have to slow your heart down. Do it for me, okay. Just think of the house and how you're going to redecorate it and turn that guest bedroom into the darkroom you always wanted. Or the mornings we'll spend on the beach and the trips we'll take to Hawaii to visit mom and dad. We can do all of that but you have to fight this. You can't give up. I need you Jean."

As Marco's tears dropped onto his eye lids, Jean commanded his lungs to draw in a deep enough breath that would place pressure onto his heart. He held it for a long minute, putting more force behind the push of his expanding lungs as he waited for the hyper muscle in his chest to calm. Every part of him ached and wanted to give in but his mind screamed in protest. It didn't matter if his bones cracked and moaned against the strain or if his nerves cried from the searing pain as jolts of electricity raced along them in brutal succession. He was going to survive this. He had to. Like he had said, Jean wasn't done loving Marco yet.

Jean was nowhere near done loving Marco. He wasn't done listening to that bubbling laughter or seeing his mouth split into a bright smile that could chase away even the most frightening of storms. He wasn't done listening to the small snores the brunette made in his sleep or watching his eyes open for the first time every morning and close every night. He wasn't finished with kissing him, holding him close, feeling his skin against his, or listening to Marco cry out 'I love you' as their hands tangled together before they found relief in one another. Jean would never be done loving, adoring, wanting and needing Marco; even when death finally came for him, he would wait for the man he loved to join him at heaven's gates.

So he fought with everything he had because death could fucking wait it's turn. Death could wait because Jean had searched long enough to find the love of his life and he'd be damned if he was going to give up now. Not now that happiness was finally his and he finally understood what real joy was. 

Through sheer willpower, the young man commanded his body to obey. Ripping free from the medic's grasp, Jean placed his hands on either side of Marco's face to keep him right where he was. Taking another breath, he could feel the energy radiating off of his partner. 'It's just us,' he thought to himself in order to soothe his nerves. 'Only us.' Time slowed and the world around them blurred. All that was left was Marco and those swirling pools of lively brown that were as warm as the earth on a summer day. Exhaling, Jean could feel his partner sigh with him; like it was a fun little breathing exercise. Smiling as his pulse leveled out, the young man began to laugh. To everyone's surprise, so did Marco.

Placing a quick but tender butterfly kiss on his lips, Marco beamed down at him. "You really are a wild force of nature."

"Thanks coach," Jean smiled.

As the tension dissipated, the ambulance turned into the emergency driveway at Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital. When the vehicle stopped the medic and second EMT in the back waited for the driver to open the doors before unloading. Both women were amazed that he had been able to force his heart out of v-fib. However, he was still at risk for relapsing and needed immediate medical attention. Something wasn't right and the longer they waited the more his chances of seizing increased.

The doors swung open and out jumped the medic and EMT. As they removed Jean from the cabin, the young man held tight to Marco's hand. They told him that he couldn't stay with him for much longer but it didn't matter. He wanted the brunette as close to him as possible for as long as possible because once they let go of each other, he was on his own. The thought of going into an examination suite to have his heart assessed and potentially stopped so that it would restart with a healthier rhythm frightened Jean. But if it meant having more time with this man who was holding onto him as if he were made of gold, then he would do it.

"Sorry, but we can't let you go beyond this point sir," the medic said as they were joined by a doctor and two nurses.

Looking down at Jean, Marco leaned in and gave him another long loving kiss. "Alright, this is it babe. I'll be in the waiting room right over there so don't worry. Focus on getting better and I'll see you when you're all wrapped up, 'kay. Just remember, we're nowhere near finished yet."

Laughing, Jean held his face in his hands before kissing his nose then lips. "Promise?"

"Promise. Now go get better."

"I love you Marco," Jean said as they started moving through the large automatic metal doors that led into the emergency suites. Before their hands slipped away from each others, he looked over his shoulder, suddenly feeling a pang of fear stir inside him. "Marco..."

"I love you Jean," the brunette shouted back as the entrance closed behind them. As he stood in the hallway alone, Marco felt his heart ache when he whispered again, "I love you."

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Ymir led the way as she and her parents stormed into the lobby of the emergency room. She could feel it in her bones that somewhere, sitting all alone, Marco was hurting; that he was suffering and she needed to find him. They had always been connected; like twins except she had bailed ship a little sooner and was on the other side waiting for him. Even when they were children, Ymir was the only person that knew where to find Marco when he had run off. Whether it was the secret cave by the shore that they would go "camping" in or his favorite kamani tree to laze around on, she always knew. No matter what, he could never hide from her because she would always find him.

This unshakable bond was what had also motivated her to switch schools after Marco's falling out with Kitty which was swiftly followed by the accident that had nearly taken him from her. They were a part of each other; two halves of the same person and every heartache and victory they experienced together. However, for the first time since he had been born and had looked up at her with those massive brown cow eyes, Ymir couldn't figure out what he was thinking or where he was. It was like the signals were scrambled and all that was coming across their feed was white noise.

She felt like crying; like screaming his name and calling for a timeout as if they were playing hide and seek. But Ymir had to stay strong because right now Marco was in pain and needed someone else to be the shoulder to cry on. Sighing angrily past gritted teeth, she stood in place and let the world fade away. All the noise, muddled chatter, voices calling over the intercom, the sirens--all of it evaporated until the only thing left was silence. And there, in that stillness she could feel him reach out to her. It was faint but her gut was never wrong. Opening her eyes, Ymir turned to her parents with pleading eyes.

"Go to him," Aulani smiled knowingly. "We'll be here if you need us."

Following the impulse, she began down the hall which turned into a mad dash through the winding corridors and passages that were most likely to be used by hospital staff members only. But it didn't matter to her. Ymir had to find Marco. She could feel her heart breaking which could only mean his was in even worse condition. The muscles in her legs burned and her sides cramped since the heavy meal they had just eaten hadn't digested yet but she worked through it. Even if it meant dry heaving over a trashcan, she would find her brother. So, with her stomach knotting and her mind spiraling, Ymir kept running.

Reaching the main lobby on the other end of the massive building, she could tell that he was close. Yet even so, she couldn't pin point where he was. It was infuriating. Why was it so hard to find him right now? 'Come on pua'a,' she grumbled under her breath. Turning around in a slow circle, she whipped her head from side to side like a mad woman. Searching the main waiting room and the little gift shop and still no Marco. Stepping outside for fresh air, Ymir hunched over with one hand on her knee and the other on her back. As visitors passed by with inquisitive stares, she attempted to catch her breath. When she straightened out, she saw Marco sitting on the edge of the oval fountain with his bare feet kicking along the top of the waters' surface.

Closing the distance, Ymir was only a couple feet away from her brother when he looked up and over his shoulder at her. His eyes were red and glassy from crying and he looked paler than she could ever recall him being. He didn't even look that bad when he had come down with swine flu five years ago. Forcing a meek pitiful smile, the expression looked foreign on him.

"Did you hear me calling?" he chuckled knowing that she would find him eventually. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

"Marco," Ymir breathed heavily as she knelt down and collected him into her arms. "It's alright," she said, letting him pull her in tighter. "I'm right here. You don't have to be strong right now; just lay it all on me."

"I'm so scared," he said, his words muffled by the plush fabric of her hoodie. "He looked fine going in but what if something happens? I can't live without him anymore. He's it for me, moa."

Smoothing the hair atop his head, she gently rocked him while giving him a small kiss on the temple. "If Jean were fragile he would have kicked the bucket a long time ago. He's a tough guy and I doubt he'd leave you behind without a fight. You've got to trust him Marco. Jean'll find his way back to you. He can probably feel you all the way out here."

"But what if he needs surgery or a valve transplant?"

"Who mentioned any of that?"

"One of the doctors had stepped out of the room to clarify some things with me about his condition. They said it may be best to consider having an ICD implanted in case something like this were to happen again."

"And they expected you to make that kind of call?" Ymir scoffed, offended for a moment that the doctors were so brazen so to go around Jean's back. That was until she remembered something. "Fuck, they still think you guys are engaged. That's probably why they talked to you about the surgery."

Parting from her comforting embrace, Marco sniffled a bit and nodded. "I haven't had the chance to tell them the truth so--"

"Don't," she interjected. "Don't tell them. If you keep pretending to be engaged then you won't have to be apart from him and, as much as I would like you to get a good nights' sleep at home, I know that won't be happening. At least this way you can stay in his recovery room and keep an eye on Jean."

Marco nodded with little energy. "Right."

"So," Ymir dragged the word along as she thought about her next words. "You know its been said that people say what they're really thinking when the right amount of pressure is applied. Is that why you told the medic you were his fiance?"

Again, he nodded. "It shouldn't be any surprise Ymir."

"It isn't. But I think mom and dad nearly died of shock when they heard that from you. And the ride over wasn't easy either."

"I can go handle them if it's that bad."

"No, it's fine," she stopped him as he shifted to get up. "I've got it covered. You're in no condition to be playing 'who wants to be a mother-in-law' with mom right now. Dad and I can keep her at bay until tomorrow when all of this is sorted out. For now though, you work on getting yourself together so that when you see Jean again, you won't look like absolute hell. 'Kay?"

Smiling, Marco shook his head before leaning in to rest against her shoulder. She always had a way of calming him down. It may not have been sweet or overly soothing like a mothers' hug and babying would be. But he appreciated her method a bit more because of it's honesty and rough kindness. It was who Ymir was at her core--a little abrasive but with good intentions and a big heart. Since his childhood, Marco had looked up to her for her fearlessness and ability to say whatever she wanted without a care in the world for how others looked at her. He wished that he could have that kind of strength some day so that she wouldn't have to keep saving him all the time. But even now that they were adults and he had matured into a capable man, he didn't mind so much--falling back on her and allowing some of that endless courage seep into him.

As they lingered in the shared silence, Marco's phone vibrated in his pocket. Removing it from the denim confines, he breathed a sigh of relief when he read over the message. It was a notification from the hospital telling him that he was being called to the front desk. Helping Ymir up, the pair went inside to meet Jean's doctor. During the brief conversation, they were told that there had been some tests and labs drawn to better understand what was happening with his heart but that, all in all, he would make a full recovery. The physician commented on how rare it was for someone as young as Jean to have ventricular tachycardia and fibrillation. It was even more shocking that he had survived since the survival rate was around forty-five percent.

After the doctor left--wishing them a pleasant evening as if they were out for a leisurely stroll--Ymir told her brother to go find Jean. She was fine being the one to talk to their parents and talk them down from the wild turn of events. She also happened to know that right now, it would be best to give the two men some time alone. They had a lot they needed to discuss and most of it--if not all of it--was best kept private. With a hug and a kiss on the cheek, Ymir parted from her baby brother while saying a silent prayer for them. 'I swear to God, Jean if you die now I'll beat you into the next life,' she thought to herself. 'Don't make me regret giving you guys my blessing.'

Meeting Aulani and Hector at the back lobby where she had left them, Ymir exited the hospital with one final glance over her shoulder. She could tell things would be alright. The signals were clear now and Marco's was ringing loud and bright. With a small smile she slid into the car and began the long drive home.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

The weight tugging at Jeans' eyes was enormous but they flickered in strong protest. He had been asleep for the past hour and something in him told the young man to wake up. He could feel the air around him fill with an intangible charge that prickled along his nerves and rolled over his spine. There was someone there with him. Even in his sleep he could feel them there, just out of his reach yet so close. Releasing a whimpering sigh, he rolled his head and furrowed his brows like a frustrated child.

He wanted to wake up. Being stuck in this sleep was as stifling as being kept under the ice of a frozen lake. You could see the other side but as much as you tried to break through you can only scratch at the surface. But to hell with it. If Jean could force himself out of cardiac arrest, he could pull his mind out of this daydream. He didn't know why he felt this urgency; just that he did and that it was important that he obeyed this call to rise.

It was slow at first with just his eyes shifting around beneath the eyelids. But then his lashes fluttered and his head rolled to the side with another long groan. Jean could tell he was close to breaking through. All he needed was one final push and he would be awake. So, with everything he had, he fought against the brutal force that wanted to keep his eyes closed until they opened. Squinting at the dim light coming from the bedside lamp, the young man slowly lifted his left hand to shield his eyes. Taking note of the IV tube connected to his wrist and the monitor leads that disappeared under the hospital gown he was dressed in, Jean suddenly became aware of where he was as well as the 'why' and 'how.'

"There he is," a familiar voice spoke. When Jean rotated his head to the right, he saw Marco watching him from the armchair that had been pulled up right next to his bed. "Welcome back."

"Marco," the young man smiled as he reached out to touch his face. "You're here."

"Told you I'd be."

As a warm smile stretched across his tired features, a thought crossed Jean's mind. "You know, everyone here keeps congratulating me on my engagement but, oddly enough, I don't see a ring on my finger. You know if it's not a Tiffany's I'm calling the whole thing off," Jean joked.

"Whatever you want," Marco breathed as his partners' hand finally reclaimed its place on his cheek.

"You know I was kidding Marco."

"I wasn't."

The words were enough to stun Jean back into silence. He couldn't be serious. Could he? No, it was too soon and they hadn't even moved in together or had been a couple for that long. How could he be serious about wanting to marry him? Yet, looking at the brunette now and how serious he was--that powerful fire coming to life in those pools of warm brown--Jean knew this wasn't a joke. They both understood that, eventually at some point in time, they'd get married. It was a given. But for it to come this quickly was something else entirely.

"You're everything for me," Marco said, nuzzling the hand on his cheek as both his hands reached up to take it in his. "Whether we wait or not is entirely up to you but I can't stand the thought of living without you. Not after this. And if I don't say this now, it's going to come back and haunt me. I know you're scared and there's a lot going on that you aren't telling me about but we've got forever to figure that out."

"Marco...?"

"I know you think you're damaged but I'm just as messed up as you. But you listened and took on everything I had been carrying and said you loved me. So let me do that," the brunette paused, looking up to capture those amber eyes in his loving brown gaze. "Tell me everything; all you're secrets that you've held on to because, after that, I'm going to ask you to marry me and I'm going to pray that you'll say yes."

Jean chuckled pitifully to cover up the sound of his heart breaking from the devotion behind the words he had just heard. 'He's serious about this,' the young man mused as a small smile made its way across his face.

"I'm not sure you'll want to tie yourself down to me after what I've got to say."

"We've got all night and I'm a good listener."

Taking a deep breath, Jean nodded. "Okay," he said, saying goodbye to the person he had been up to that point as the floodgates opened. "Let's go back to the start then."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Looking down at the dash then back up at the sky that had just begun to turn purple with streaks of violet, Ymir decided to take a detour on the way home. With both parents in tow, she turned the car around and began heading in the direction of the mall. It only took a moment for the passengers to notice the sudden change in their daughter as well as where they were going.

"Ymir," Aulani placed a hand on her daughters' shoulder. "Why are you driving toward the mall?"

"There's a few shops I want to check out."

"Right now?" Hector asked, his brows knitting together.

"Mom, you remember Marco's ring size from when you ordered our class rings right?"

The question struck the woman like it were a slap to the face. At first she was stunned. Ymir was normally very protective of her brother and hated sharing him with anyone. It was one of the few things she hadn't grown out of but Marco never seemed to mind it all that much. However, to hear her ask such a thing and with that kind of look in her eyes was a change. Pressing her lips into a tight line, Aulani smiled as tears came to her eyes.

"Do you know Jean's?"

"He wears a nine," Ymir said with confidence. "I called Eren to ask before leaving the hospital."

"You know your brothers' going to be upset if he doesn't get to pick them out," Hector chimed in, hoping to be the voice of reason.

"I already know what he wants."

Leaning back in his seat, the father shrugged. "Alright. Guess we're going shopping then."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was hard at first, telling Marco about the intense bullying he had been subjected to. The ridicule and loneliness was still so strong that it felt as if he had been stripped down to his bones and exposed for everything he was worth. But the difference between now and when those memories had first been made was that now he had someone to talk to; someone who was just as shattered as him but had the courage to pick up the pieces and keep on living. He had Marco who had not once let go of his hand as he told him every painful detail of what it was like going to a private school that made the hazing incidents reported on the news look like child's play.

From opening his locker only to have dozens of used condoms spill out to brutal beatings from members of the lacrosse team, he had lived every teenagers nightmare. It was even worse since he had grown up in the digital age. Gossip about him sleeping around with multiple guys from different schools and fake trysts with politicians were just a fraction of the slander that ran rampant across every imaginable social network. It had even gotten to the point that his mother had him "take a break" from school. But when he got back from studying abroad, the rumors only worsened.

So Jean shut himself off from the world. He didn't go out or try to make friends. He went to the community college on the other side of Manhattan by Hell's Kitchen because he knew no one he knew would go there. For two years, he lived as a hermit until the unimaginable happened and destroyed the little bit of happiness he had left.

"You remember me mentioning the guy I was with before I moved?" Jean rasped; his throat tightening at the anticipation of the next part of this story.

"You mean the emotionally neglectful bastard? Yeah," Marco said with a hint of resentment in his tone. "I remember that guy."

"If you aren't going to be mature about this, I'll stop talking." When the brunette bit down on his lip like some sulking child, Jean laughed then wove their fingers together more tightly as the sound stopped. "He called me today. He had been in rehab for the past year and just got out last week apparently."

"What was he admitted for?"

"Alcohol abuse. But anyway, part of his twelve step program is contacting the people that you have hurt while living as an addict and apologize to them. You usually start by calling the ones you harmed the most first so that you can get it out of the way," the young man paused, looking down at the bedspread. "I was the first person on his list."

Squeezing his hand, Marco kept his eyes fixed on Jean's face as it switched from mild discomfort to borderline misery. "It's alright Jean. I'm listening so take as long as you need."

"I'm just afraid I'll fall apart since I haven't talked about this in so long."

"You don't have to worry about that, remember?" the brunette beamed as small tears rolled down his cheeks. "I told you the night we said 'I love you'. I've got you Jean. I'm right here."

Breathing in, Jean calmed his heart because he knew it would fly off the handle if he didn't get a hold of it now. Slowly, the memory of that terrible night came seeping back into his waking mind. It was foreign and disturbing just as a nightmare should be. He could remember the crying, the begging, nails scratching at his thighs, and a burning pain shooting up his back before spreading through him. That choking sensation as words were spoken only for them to fall on deaf ears. It was so surreal to think he had lived through it all.

"You have to promise that you won't treat me any differently after I say what I'm about to tell you. Please?"

Looking into his pleading eyes, Marco already knew what he was going to say. Nodding, he lifted their joined hands to kiss the top of Jean's. "I promise."

With that, the young man let the words flow before his mind could catch hold of them and force the nasty little memory back into its cage. He had to tell him. This was the final chapter of his former life and would decide where they went from this point on. So as much as it hurt reliving that hell, he was willing to suffer a moment if it meant a future with Marco.

"His name was Avery and he was the first man I had really fallen for," Jean breathed; his bottom lip trembling. "We met in junior college on the school newspaper. He was the photo editor and I was the new guy; typical romantic bullshit you know. He was the complete opposite of you though. The guy was the tragic artist type with moody eyes and long hair that he kept in one of those man buns. But we clicked. It was about a month or so after the semester started that we began dating. I was so enamored by him and I thought he felt the same way. The first couple of months were great but..." Jean choked. "But I was quick to think he had ever loved me. By the six month he was getting impatient with me. We hadn't had sex yet even though I knew he wanted to but something just didn't feel right."

Unable to stop himself, Marco moved to sit down on the bed. He could feel the agony welling up inside Jean with each breath he took. Every word was like a blade cutting deeper into him even as he begged for it to stop. But despite the pain, the young man kept going. He wanted to say these words; to tell him his story because he was too exhausted to carry the load alone. So, unwilling to sit there completely useless as Jean bore his soul, Marco did the only thing he could.

Slipping under the sheet, the brunette wrapped a protective arm around the back of Jean shoulders as the young man turned into him; his tear stained face buried in his partners' chest. They sat there for a long moment as small sobs and sniffles worked themselves out of Jean's system. What kind of hell had he lived through?

"A week before his birthday, we went to a party at a mutual friends' house," the young man mused. "Both of us got drunk and about halfway through the night, Avery pulled me into the hallway to make-out. I didn't think anything of it because I was buzzed and we'd done more back at his place a couple times. But then something happened and we wound up in a guest bedroom. I could feel him going for my belt so I told him to stop but he didn't listen. He just overpowered me in that moment and..." Jean cringed as the words halted. "And then he ripped off my pants and raped me. It hurt so much because I tore from him going in raw and I begged him to stop but then my heart started to beat fast. I told him I couldn't breathe but he just said 'You say that every time we try to do something.' It was over in about ten minutes but I had been coughing and crying the whole time. Everything hurt and I couldn't move so he left me like that. We both knew it was over after that and I didn't speak to him at school either. I wanted to forget about it; to just finish with my transfer requirements so I could get out of there. But when people saw that we weren't together anymore, that's when the rumors started, again."

Kissing his head when Jean started crying again, Marco pressed his cheek against his lovers' head. "I've got you Jean. You're safe."

"You don't know how many times I've wished to have known you in junior college," the young man smiled sadly. "High school was easy compared to that shit because I had Eren and the gang to fight alongside me. Even Armin got scrappy once or twice. But I was all alone when they all got accepted in schools on the west coast. I had no one to talk to when I was shunned from the newsroom because everyone thought I had cheated on Avery. And since I was a nobody and he was the editing teams' favorite, I didn't stand a chance. So I stopped going to class and disappeared. And then one day, after fighting with my mother over attending another one of her work functions, I ran off to my room when I felt my heart starting to act up. I then began to seize and collapsed and I knew what I had to do to but instead of reaching for my cell or calling for help, I let it happen. Part of me really believed that everyone would be better off without me and I had thought about killing myself before but there was always someone that brought me back from the brink. But now," Jean said softly, "now I had no one. So I laid there and waited for the pain to stop and to fall asleep and I almost did. But I was saved just before I went unconscious."

"Was it your mother?"

Shaking his head, Jean chuckled. "Nope. Charlotte saved me. She was running late for a photoshoot and wanted to borrow one of my t-shirts so she came in without saying anything like she always does. When she found me on the ground, she didn't panic or break down into a sobbing mess. Instead Charlotte said 'oh, no you don't' and flipped me over and started doing chest compressions. When I didn't respond, she slammed the broadside of her arm down on my chest so hard that I had a bruise in the shape of her elbow for weeks. But she saved me. I didn't know why God spared me and part of me was terrified to find out so, the moment I fulfilled my transfer requirements, I booked it to California. And on my second week here, I saw a man so beautiful, it hurt, gliding across the water on some sleepy beach." As Marco's chest heaved and shook as he began to cry, Jean reached up and kissed his chin. "In these last few months you have shown me more happiness and given me more love than I have ever known. When Charlotte brought me back after that episode, I resented her because life had been nothing but an endless stream of letdowns for me. But because of that, I came to California and found you, my person; the only man that I could and ever will love."

"Jean, I can't breathe," Marco said through the onslaught of tears. "I..."

"It's alright, you don't need to say anything," the younger man smiled happily as he buried his face in the warmth of Marco's neck. "Marco, I couldn't even begin to count the ways that I love you. Everything you are and will be brings me so much joy. You're it. You're the one, Marco. So whether we call up a minster and tie the knot now or wait five, ten years, I will marry you. So now, I want you to ask me properly because I can't wait another second."

"I don't have a ring."

"I don't care. It's only metal."

Parting just enough so they could look each other in the eyes, Marco found himself rationing his uneven breathes as he took Jeans' left hand in his. This was it. This was the moment he had been waiting for; been dreaming about for a week now if he were being totally honest. And even though it wasn't happening anything like he had envisioned it, this was perfect because this was them. This was how they were supposed to start their lives together. With his eyes still locked onto Jeans', the brunette kissed the mans' ring finger while wearing a smile.

"Jean Kirstein," Marco beamed as the words fell from his lips. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes," Jean smiled back as the last of his tears, now of happiness, crossed his cheeks. "Yes I will. God, I love you."

Collecting his, now official, fiance into his arms, Marco laughed as he hide his face in the soft fragrant blonde hair atop the mans' head. "I love you too. I love you Jean and I'm never letting you go. I promise."

Struggling for words, the young man nodded and whispered, "Thank you Marco for finding me."

"Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ya'! Mars here. I wanted to apologize for the short chapter. Usually they're longer--by 2,000 words or so give or take--but I thought this was the perfect place to end this arc. This by no means equals the conclusion of the story. There's still a good eight or so chapters to go but I wanted to get this out of the way and, well, the characters did what they wanted. I hope you liked it and please forgive me for any pain or ill memories the text may have drudged up. From here on out, things will start getting lighter; I promise.
> 
> \----------------------------------------------------
> 
> So this is playlist is a little different because it is an inspiration list for chapter 13. It's a bit shorter than the others because most of the time I listen to certain songs on a loop. But for this installment I had to change it up every so often because the material is kind of heavy. So here, from me to you, is the Mars Special.
> 
> P.S: Brownie points to anyone who can figure out where the chapter title came from. ;)
> 
>  
> 
> \--Heart Playlist--
> 
> -"The Scientist" by Coldplay  
> -"Fix You" by Coldplay  
> -"I'll See You Soon" by Coldplay  
> -"I Of The Storm" by Of Monsters And Men  
> -"Across The Ocean" by Azure Ray  
> -"Sleep" by Azure Ray  
> -"Breathe (2 am)" by Anna Nalick  
> -"Wreck Of The Day" by Anna Nalick  
> -"Black Sun" by Death Cab For Cutie  
> -"Ghosts Of Beverly Drive" by Death Cab For Cutie  
> -"Title And Registration" by Death Cab For Cutie  
> -"What Sarah Said" by Death Cab For Cutie  
> -"Transatlanticism" by Death Cab For Cutie  
> -"Never Let Me Go" by Florence + The Machine  
> -"St. Jude" by Florence + The Machine  
> -"If I Apologized" by Josefine Cronholm  
> -"Somewhere Only We Know" by Keane  
> -"Gavi's Song" by Lindsey Stirling  
> -"Born To Die" by Lana Del Rey  
> -"Dark Paradise" by Lana Del Rey  
> -"Buzzcut Season" by Lorde  
> -"Swinging Party" by Lorde  
> -"Sick In The Head" by The Lumineers  
> -"White Lie" by The Lumineers  
> -"Blackout" by Muse  
> -"Endlessly" by Muse  
> -"Don't Jump" by Tokio Hotel  
> -"My Iron Lung" by Radiohead  
> -"Kid A" by Radiohead  
> -"Treefingers" by Radiohead  
> -"Let Down" by Radiohead  
> -"No Surprises" by Radiohead  
> -"Videotape" by Radiohead  
> -"Bird Set Free" by Sia  
> -"Alive" by Sia  
> -"How To Be Dead" by Snow Patrol  
> -"Same" by Snow Patrol  
> -"Where Does The Good Go" by Teagan and Sara  
> -"Space Travel" by Yellowcard  
> -"Words, Hands, Hearts" by Yellowcard  
> -"City Of Devils" by Yellowcard  
> -"Holly Wood Died" by Yellowcard  
> -"Three Flights Down" by Yellowcard


	14. Moon River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean is discharged from the hospital but has to face Eren, Marco has a heart to heart with Ymir and Levi, and Marco and Jean have a discussion about their future together...
> 
>  
> 
> AUTHOR'S NOTE: Mwuahahahahaaa!! I have returned! Okay, so I know the last three chapters were a little heavy, especially with the whole Jean almost dying business. As such, I have decided to make this chapter light and easy since we're in between arcs here. Chapter fifteen and sixteen will also be kinda light but after that it'll start the slid into the third arc so get ready for it chickadee's. However, if you want more angst, feel free to check out my other fic Afterglow.

It didn't take as long for Jean to bounce back from his episode as it had in the past. He had been held over for two days after the attack for monitoring but it wasn't too bad. The Bott family had divided the hours in each day up so that he was never alone. Ymir took the mid-morning shift right after breakfast. It was funny how well she and Jean got along in comparison to the first couple of days after they had met. Now, they could talk about anything without feeling the slightest bit of awkwardness. 

Following Ymir was Aulani who brought homemade lunches so that the photographer wouldn't be forced to eat the hospital food. As they ate, she asked him about everything from his childhood hopes and dreams to what his favorite Marx Brother's movie was. Jean laughed as she regaled him with the story of her first attempt at surfing and how it ended in abject failure then smiled as she spoke of the day Marco was born. Apparently Ymir thought her baby brother was crying because he was hungry so she tried feeding him a McDonald's French fry.

Around four, Hector took over--continuing the train of stories but, this time, about how he and Aulani met. Funnily enough, it was almost the same way Marco and Jean had met except Hector was the blushing mess as his wife came riding in on a massive wave that crashed onto the North Shore. Wearing a warm smile, he told the young man that he knew--the moment he saw her--that he would marry her. It wasn't even a question. And after six months of dating, he proposed and they were wed four months later. It was as Hector was wrapping up the story about the tree house and how the kids used to hide in there whenever they were sulking that his son came to start his "watch shift."

Chuckling with both arms crossed over his chest, Marco watched from the doorway as his father spoke with such an animated expression; similar to the characters he created in his studio. With wide eyes and an exaggerated pout, the older man reenacted Ymir's famous royal tantrum that she threw when Hector tried removing her from the tree house. It was a story Marco remembered well because it was one of the times they had fought. He couldn't remember what it was about or why it got to the point it did, but hearing the tale now brought a smile to his face. They really had grown quite a bit even if it only felt like yesterday that he was complaining about having to wear a uniform on his first day of middle school.

When Hector caught Jean staring at the door, he paused and shifted in his seat to see who was there. "There he is," the man chuckled as he spotted his son; a fond glint shining in his deep hazel eyes. "I was just telling Jean about the time you broke your sisters favorite blue bike."

"Is that why she was crying in the tree house?" Marco said as he pushed away from the door and made his way over to the bed. "I always forget why we were fighting in the first place."

Smiling happily as the brunette kissed him on the forehead, Jean opened his eyes and answered. "Apparently you wanted a 'big kid' bike but couldn't wait for your birthday so you took Ymir's and crashed it."

"Oh yeah," Marco chuckled as he leaned against the bedside table while knitting his hand together with his fiance's. "She was so angry at me, she said 'that's what happens when little pigs try to ride bikes that are too big for them.'"

"That's harsh."

"Yeah, well I told her that it didn't break because of me but because her giant chicken legs had strained the bike and it would rather die than have her ride it again."

"Shesh, you guys were assholes when you were little," Jean gawked as both of the Bott men laughed.

"He definitely was a handful," Hector chuckled. Glancing at his watch, he sighed. "Well I'm heading out. Ymir and your mother are making dinner tonight so I can't be late. You know how those women get whenever someone's trailing behind."

"Better get going before they break out the hunting spears," his son laughed as they hugged. "Night dad."

"Night kiddo," said the older Bott as he patted the younger one's arm lovingly. Looking down at Jean, he repeated the gesture. "See you when you're let go tomorrow. Sleep tight boys."

"Night," Jean smiled as Hector left. Once the door had closed, the young man scooted over to make room for Marco who quickly slid onto the bed. "Finally, you're here."

"Miss me?" Marco murmured as he kissed the top of the blonde's head before nuzzling the soft hair under his cheek.

"I always miss you when you aren't around."

Despite the clinical setting, Jean felt so at peace and comfortable in that moment. He loved talking to Ymir, Aulani, and Hector. It made him feel like he was accepted; that he belonged in their strange little family. The stories they shared and the kind gestures reminded him of his childhood and how his family used to be. It was warm and inviting; it was safe. But above all that, he felt happiest when Marco was there because Marco was his home and shelter. He was the light that drove away the darkness and the joy that drown out all sorrow. In him, Jean could find rest and reassurance.

As their hands wove together, the blonde gently pressed into Marco's chest. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he listened to the mans heart beat strong and steady like a lighthouse guiding him to shore. These moments were what Jean lived for. This perfect frame in time where nothing else but the two of them existed and he could fall asleep to the sound of Marco's breathing. It was all Jean wanted.

"So," the brunette began; his voice edging on tired. "Have you thought about what you want to do for your birthday?"

"Hide away with you and forget it's happening. Would that be okay?"

"I thought you would say that," he chuckled as the blonde buried his face into his shirt. Pushing off his shoes, Marco slid under the blanket and flicked off the bedside lamp. "Well I've got something like that planned but we got to do it the day before since Aulani already has something set up for your actual birthday."

Groaning as he settled in, Jean yawned. "Fine. So long as I get you all to myself on the sixth, I can survive."

"Cool."

"Where are we going though?"

Kissing Jean sweetly on the lips, Marco relaxed as his eyes closed. "That's for me to know and you to find out. Love you Jean. See you in the morning."

"Love you Marco."

\--------------------------------------------------------- 

When he had finally been discharged, Jean had to wear a halter monitor at home for twenty-four hours and couldn't drink a drop of caffeine which meant no coffee, Mountain Dew, or tea. It felt like the doctors were trying to torture him from afar by restraining him from consuming his three favorite drinks. But Marco was diligent and dogged him all day--snatching the box of Earl Grey from his hands before he could make a cup while hiding the coffee so that the young man wouldn't be tempted. Apart from his wounded pride, Jean had made a full recovery. However, now he had to face something much more frightening than a heart attack: Eren.

The blonde had asked both Marco and Ymir not to tell his friend that he was in the hospital. It was the last thing the guy needed, especially with his fathers' surgery coming up at the end of the month. But somehow Eren had found out and called Jean at home, in hysterics about how he never tells him anything anymore. The photographer had to hold the phone away from his face because he was shouting so loud. So to apologize for his indiscretion, he set aside the afternoon to meet with the fiery brunette, Armin, and Mika for lunch. Little did he know that all three would be the same level of livid about being kept out of the loop.

It was a little half past noon when the trio met at their favorite cafe, Champagne. Styled to resemble a Parisian bistro and with a patisserie attached to the side, it was a quaint little niche carved out in the middle of downtown Santa Barbara. Walking up to the table by the outdoor fountain they always sat at, Jean could tell from one look at them that he was dead meat. 

Mika was already on her second latte and had bags under her eyes from staying up all night to study for her upcoming French exam. So she was in no mood for beating around the bush. Armin looked just as grouchy but for entirely different reasons. He had gotten into an argument with his lab partner and Alex, whom the blonde was dating, had sided with the partner. Needless to say they weren't talking at the moment. But out of them all, the one that scared him the most was the brunette looking him dead in the eyes as he approached.

Jean never kept anything a secret from Eren namely because it was impossible. The guy had a sixth sense which is what got him into this mess. Since they were children, they always knew what was happening in each others' lives and couldn't go more than two days without talking. They were more than friends and something beyond brothers. And it was that connection that led Jean to know that even though he was about to get his ass chewed out, they'd be okay once the talked had finished.

Frowning behind his black frame glasses, Eren folded his arms while kicking out the chair opposite of him. "Sit." When Jean had settled in and ordered his coffee as the waitress made her rounds, the brunette continued. "Now you are going to tell me exactly what happened, from start to finish, and I don't want any plot holes. Got it?"

Nodding, Jean sighed. "Well, I guess I should start by saying that I met Marco's parents before everything happened."

"How did that go?" Armin asked, quirking a fair brow as he sipped his tea.

"Pretty good. Apparently they liked me before we even met but now they're just waiting for the day Marco and I sign a marriage certificate."

"Mazel tov," Mika groused from the chair she was huddled in. Catching the questioning look on both their faces she shook her head. "Don't mind me. I'm just being bitchy. Seriously though, congrats."

"Right well, anyways, they wanted to take everyone out to dinner the day they arrived so we all went to that Mexican restaurant, Los Agaves."

"Don't tell me you ate something with agave in it?" Mika groaned setting the drink down.

"No Mika, I didn't eat something with agave in it. That's just the name of the restaurant."

"Okay, can we continue with the story please?" Eren chimed in sounding a bit more peeved than the others.

Wincing at the sharpness in his tone, Jean paused as the waitress set down his latte then continued once she had left. "Well, when we got to the restaurant everything was going fine. But halfway through dinner, I got a call from an unknown number. It had our old area code so I thought maybe Charlotte was using a friends phone to call me. When I went outside to answer it Avery was on the other end."

Eren's blood immediately ran cold. "You mean that piece of fucking shit that deserves to be castrated and hung out for the vultures had the fucking balls to call you?"

"Calm down Eren," Jean sighed.

"No I will not calm down. That asshole fucked up everything and left you hurt and you want me to calm down?!"

"Yeah, I do. I'm the one he messed up and you don't see me losing my shit, do you? Sit the fuck down and let me talk," Jean commanded. With a glare still smoldering in his eyes, Eren plopped down in his chair and sipped his drink quietly. "Anyway, yeah, Avery called. He just got out of rehab and wanted to apologize for treating me like shit. We talked for a minute and then I hung up because my chest hurt. Everything after that is kind of a blur but the doctors said I had a small heart attack from the stress."

"Whoa now, back up," Armin interjected. "You had a heart attack? How the hell can you be so casual about that?"

"Why is everyone acting like it's the end of the world," the ashen blonde photographer sighed as he slumped into his chair. "I have ventricle tachycardia. Of course I'm going to be at risk. I mean, have you all forgotten about spring break during junior year? I had to go to the emergency room to have my heart stopped."

"Yeah, but that wasn't the same as an actual heart attack," Mika said.

"She's right," Armin added. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because I didn't want this to happen. I love you guys; seriously, I do. You're my best friends and I was going to tell you eventually but I needed a day or two to bounce back."

"So what are you going to do about it? You're heart, I mean," Eren asked; his lethal green gaze reaching a sobering level in its intensity. "The doctors had to have said something."

"They want me to consider having surgery for either an ICD or a pacemaker. The doctor said that because I'm young, it would only be precautionary so I need to weigh my options before making a decision. Marco thinks I should consider the ICD though since it's less invasive and wouldn't mess with my natural rhythm; it'd only shock me back to life if I keeled over again."

"I'd have to agree there," the brunette smirked while slumping back into his seat. "Speaking of Marco, how is he handling this? I mean we're all experienced with your heart issue and have been there when you've gone to the hospital. But this couldn't have been easy for him."

"It was pretty rough," Jean said, suddenly remembering his lover crying over him outside of the restaurant and how in pain he looked during the ambulance ride. "I don't think I've ever seen him that hurt before. But we're good now. Better than good actually."

"Oh?" Armin pried. "What's up?"

Hesitating for a moment, the photographer bit his lip with a shy smile. "We're engaged."

"Get the fuck out!" Mika bellowed, her grin now wider than the moon and her eyes alight under the thick red frames of her glasses. "Who asked? Please tell me you did? How did it happen?"

"Wait, are you serious?" Eren asked, still in a state of complete disbelief. "You went and got hitched without telling me? What the fuck dude?"

"They aren't hitched yet Eren," Armin laughed. "They're just engaged."

"Still. He didn't tell me," the brunette frowned. "Okay, now you got to fill me in or I'll seriously be pissed. How did it happen, who asked, when's the date, and am I the best man because I sure as hell better be."

"Fuck, okay calm down you guys. Marco asked a couple hours after the attack and no we haven't picked a day yet because he just fucking asked," Jean laughed.

As the young man went into detail about how Marco popped the question, he could feel the blush rise in his cheeks as he remembered the event. It was so perfectly them. True, it wasn't particularly romantic like most engagement scenes were in fiction or in the movies, but that was what made it uniquely theirs. It was romantic to him because, after all the bullshit they had both lived through, it would only make sense that that moment would be just as dramatic. But it brought a smile to his face unlike any other because he could still recall how Marco's hands were trembling and how his voice had become muddled from the tears. He was so beautiful, even in that brokenness and Jean wanted nothing more than to hold him close and kiss him until the tears stopped. 

That was them. That was how they were going to begin their life together--broken but made whole by each other. Little did he know though that--across town with an entirely different audience--Marco was reliving the same moment while feeling the same warmth as his fiance.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Marco knew that Ymir was aware that the engagement between him and Jean had gone from fake to real. She had even bought them custom engagement rings from Tiffany's--the design being one Marco had talked about years ago in passing. However, Levi, who had been the brunette's closest friend, did not know. 

The brunette had being meaning to tell him but hesitated because he thought the guy would tell him to wait or think about whether this was what he genuinely wanted or had just been brought on by the heat of the moment. If he was being completely honest, even Marco had asked himself those questions but kept coming back to 'yes, this is what I want.' He was certain of it and whether they waited five weeks or five years, he was sure that he'd always love Jean and would want to tie himself to the man. Now all that was left was to break the news to Levi.

With Ymir as his support, Marco called up his friend to do some wetsuit and gear shopping for the upcoming Australian Open. All three of them had received invites; Ymir being a two-time Triple Crown champion and Levi having won the Triple Crown once and the Australian Open twice. However, the dark-haired man turned down the offer to surf in the starting line-up since he'd be in New York with Eren. But just because he wasn't joining in the festivities it didn't mean he couldn't help Marco grab some much needed gear.

Browsing through the wetsuit collection at the local REI, Levi looked less than impressed. They didn't really have anything for cold water surfing and May was the start of Australia's wet season. It was also when the monsoon winds would start rearing their ugly heads which was what generated the strong wave formations so Marco needed something that was going to keep his body temperature level while providing him maximum range of movement. The guy was a performer in the water so he would require full use of his arms, legs, and twist range in the torso.

"What about this one?" Levi asked as he pulled a Hurley from the rack. He knew his friend preferred their suits over other competitors but this one didn't have full-length sleeves. "It's a short sleeve but it has a breathable back and a quick-pull zipper."

"Hmm," the brunette hummed as he examined the piece. "I could try it on. Do they have a large-tall?"

Rummaging through the rack, the man shorter man pulled a black suit from the selection. "Yeah, but it's in black. That alright?"

"That's fine."

"So you said you wanted to talk to me about something. Am I correct to assume it has something to do with Kirstein?"

Glancing to Ymir then back to Levi, Marco gnawed on his bottom lip for a good moment before speaking. "Well, you know the night he had his episode?"

"Don't tell me the kids' back in the hospital?"

"No, he's fine. But umm, fuck there really isn't any way of putting this lightly. We're engaged."

The look that took precedence over Levi's face was a strange amalgamation of shock, skepticism, and understanding. He knew that the two were heading in that direction. Anyone with eyes could see that they were just a stone's throw away from proposing. But Levi hadn't expected this at the two month marker. 'They must be in really deep,' he thought to himself as he searched Marco's eyes for anything that would tell him he wasn't ready. However, all he could see was determination and fear of Levi's disapproval. Sighing heavily, he turned toward the brunette completely with his head tilted to the side.

"You do understand that, traditionally, marriage is a lifelong thing, right? That this is a big decision and that you both are still pretty young."

"I understand that Levi and so does Jean. But," Marco paused, biting his lip again. "We both want this. I know you think it's soon but we're settled on it."

"And what do you think Ymir?" the dark-haired man asked the woman who hadn't said a word yet. "Do you think they're ready for this or rushing head first into disaster?"

"They're ready," Ymir said without a shred of doubt in her voice. "It wouldn't matter how long they wait. Eventually, Kirstein's going to be my brother-in-law and I've reconciled that with myself."

"Thanks a lot moa," Marco chuckled, somewhat wounded by how she put it.

Pursing his lips, Levi looked between them then let out a long sigh while rubbing the back of his neck. "Fine, I approve or whatever. I just hope you two know what you're getting yourselves into. Marriage is messy, especially when you start joining accounts and wills and shit."

"Thanks L," laughed the brunette. "So does this mean you'll be my other best man? Ymir's already one but I wanted you to be a best man since you're more than groomsman material."

"Yeah, I'll be your second best man. Just tell me when and where so I can put it in my schedule. But Ymir's planning the bachelor party."

"Naturally," the woman chuckled, which caused her cheeks to apple and the freckles on them to appear. "If I left that up to you, you'd have us going to some shitty photography exhibit at the Annenberg."

"Watch it freckles," the shorter man griped.

"Bring it Woodstock."

"Alright, now that that's taken care of, back to wetsuit shopping," Marco said, immediately defusing the banter. "I also need a new board so let's get on with it, 'kay."

\------------------------------------------------------------------

The marine layer had already begun to set in by the time Jean made it back to Marco's house that evening. Blanketing the small beachside neighborhood in a sheet of thick dense fog, nothing escaped it; not even the sound of ocean waves could permeate it. The dreary weather was nothing new but, currently, it did nothing to help Jean's mood.

Despite Armin and Mikasa's relative happiness when he announced his engagement to Marco, the ashen blonde couldn't help but notice the hesitation in Eren's eyes. That look that swam with disbelief hid the underlying current of apprehension that was the one thing Jean did not want to see. Were they moving too fast? Was this a mistake? In his heart, he knew the answer but the monster in his head that the photographer had managed to keep at bay for years began to rear its ugly head.

Turning off the engine, Jean sat in the car a moment longer as the silence worked his buzzing nerves back down to a low hum. He knew that he was in love with Marco and that they were perfect for one another. But even then, a good woman and a good man--or in their case, a good man and another good man--could potentially bring out the bad in each other. What if, later on down the line, they wake up one day and realize they aren't in love anymore? Was that even possible? From the way they were in that moment, Jean couldn't imagine himself ever falling out of love with Marco. 

Then again, it isn't as though couples get married knowing that eventually they'll grow tired of one another.

With a heavy sigh, the young man exited the Trooper that had been sitting idly in the driveway for the past five minutes. Fumbling with his keys for a moment, Jean slid the correct one into the slot on the front lock but stopped before turning it. Instead he took a deep breath and counted to five. It was a trick he had picked up in middle school. 

Whenever he was anxious or feeling particularly shitty but had to go out and be social, Jean would count to five. By then, he was able to push whatever was bugging him back into its cage and pull up a convincing enough smile that would fool everyone into thinking he was okay. It was his way of coping with everything the world had thrown at him yet he had not once used it in Marco's presence. However, today, he felt it was necessary. Jean didn't want to bring the mood down or make his partner worry; he had already gone through enough this past week all things considered. So against his better judgment, the photographer put on a fake air of tranquility and entered the house.

Dropping his keys in the small olive wood bowl by the entrance, Jean was greeted by the smell of white wine tomato sauce, fresh made pasta, and fresh cooked potatoes. The rich vocals of Frank Sinatra singing "Moon River" saturated the air--growing louder as the young man slowly made his way through the living room, past the dining table, and stopped just outside of the kitchen. Folding his arms across his chest with his right hand absentmindedly gripping at his hoodie, Jean watched with adoring eyes as his lover cooked.

Marco hadn't noticed he was being watched as he diced a clove of garlic or when he placed the homemade pasta in the boiling pot of water while adding a pinch of salt. He didn't notice the eyes following him as he took a taste of the sauce from the tip of the wooden spoon, frowned, and added a drop or two more of wine; or how he snuck a sip for himself once he was satisfied with the kick from the sauce. It wasn't until he turned to reach for the fridge handle that he saw Jean leaning against the entrance with a soft smile.

Returning the gesture, the brunette reached out to tug the man closer. He had been craving Jean the same way a junkie craved for their next fix. It wasn't just his kiss which Marco leaned downward to steal in that moment or the sensation of the blonde's skin against his. The man missed everything about him from the way their bodies fitted together so perfectly when they hugged each other tight to the delicate yet deep woodsy scent that he naturally exuded.

As Marco pulled Jean even closer, he could feel the tension in his partners' frame. He knew the moment their eyes met that something was on his mind but the stiffness of his embrace told him it was important and somehow related to them, as a couple. He didn't know why he knew that but his intuition had never been wrong before.

"You having fun out there in orbit?" Marco chuckled as he parted just enough so that they could see each other. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Jean lied with a smile he thought was convincing enough to throw his partner off his scent. "I'm just tired."

"Oh," the brunette nodded, clearly not buying the excuse. And from the reaction on Jeans' face, he knew that the young man knew he had seen right through his facade. "Sorry to hear that. If you want, you can sit down while I finish up in here."

It was almost unnerving how quickly Marco had detected his lie. Jean was not transparent nor was his poker face. He was a master of burying what he was feeling and had managed to fool everyone, even Eren who could spot a lie from a mile away; just not his. Yet it only took a matter of seconds for the man before him to uncover his dishonesty. As Marco pulled away from him without a word, Jean felt his stomach twist as an awkward silence set in. The barrier that had fallen between them was something similar to when they had worked the booths during club rush except now the quietness and the tension that came with it was the exact opposite of what Jean had wanted.

They had never held anything back from each other; especially if it concerned their relationship. The two of them had made it abundantly clear that the thing they valued most was honesty and open communication yet here was Jean going against their promise to always be truthful and never hold back. Part of him wanted to continue with the rouse and convince his lover that nothing was wrong; that he was fine. But as the silence grew and the distance between them deepened, his resolve snapped.

Wrapping his arms around Marco's waist, Jean buried his face in the mans' back. Taking a long breath, the blonde appreciated the familiar smell of sunblock and crisp citrus on his lovers skin. He could feel the brunette react to his touch as his freckled arm turned the stove off before resting on Jeans' hands that had clasped together. And as Marco shift so that they were facing one another Jean knew he couldn't continue lying. This anxiety he felt was too big and too important to keep bottled up.

With his face still nestled safely in the warmth of Marco's chest, Jean spoke first. "Do you think we're making the right decision? Getting married, I mean. I was talking to my friends today and, while Armin and Mika seem down with it, I felt like Eren thought we were going to fast."

"Hmm," the brunette hummed as he pulled Jean in more; resting his chin on the top of the mans' flaxen hair. "Well, what do you think?"

"I think that if I were given the chance to marry you right now, I'd take it."

"Then what's there to worry about?"

"That you'd wake up one day and no longer be in love with me," the blonde choked out. Tightening his grip on his partners' shirt, he closed his eyes. "I know we say it won't happen but so does every other couple. How do we know that we won't fall out of love? After talking to them, all I could think about was that one morning you'd be gone or we'd get into some fight and then we'd call it quits. I don't want it to happen and I can't imagine my world without you anymore but...I mean, it sounds stupid but it's how I feel. And everyone telling me we're rushing into this doesn't help either. Can't they just let us be? Why does it matter to them?"

"You know Levi and I had a similar conversation today," Marco said as he rubbed Jeans' back, up and down along the spine in a soothing manner. "He kept telling me that it's a lifelong commitment and that it can be messy. I could tell he had my best interests in mind though because he wouldn't have said that otherwise. Jean, it wouldn't make any difference if we waited or if we got married in this kitchen right now. I am always going to love you. I'll never grow tired of you or wake up one day wishing I had met someone else."

"How do you know that?" Jean laughed pitifully while struggling to keep his tears at bay. "If you think I'm a handful now, who knows what could happen later on down the line."

"I know because I've known you were the one since that day we were driving up to San Francisco. Remember when we snuck away from our groups and met up by the pier? The moment I turned around and saw you standing there, smiling back at me," Marco paused with a sigh as the memory resurfaced bringing with it warmth and joy. "That's when I knew. I knew that I'd someday ask you to marry me. In my personal opinion, I think we're making the right decision. If you want to wait, I don't mind. But one day I will marry you; that's a promise. So it's your choice. We can wait or we can go ahead and start planning. But don't think of a second that I'll ever leave you. 'Kay?"

Crying quietly now, Jean nodded as he fought to find his voice. "December."

"What?"

"I want the wedding to be in December. You're going to be busy with the Australian Open this summer and I have classes from August through November. And you're going to sign up for the Triple Crown if you make it past the Australian Open and the Huntington invitational so December is the only time we'll both be free."

Nodding, the brunette smiled. "It'd have to be a week before Christmas or after."

"How about the fifth?"

"Five's always been my lucky number."

"Same," Jean smiled. Lifting his head, he closed his eyes for a long moment as Marco wiped the tears from his cheeks then kissed him sweetly between his eyes. "So December fifth?"

Beaming brightly back at his partner, Marco placed a small peck on the blonde's lips. "December fifth it is. Do you know where you want to have it?"

"I was thinking Hawaii. You?"

"I was thinking about having it back home too."

"Then December fifth in Hawaii."

With a small smirk, Marco pressed their foreheads together and sighed. "I can't wait. Especially since I've spent a lifetime waiting for you to show up."

"It's alright babe," Jean said gently as he moved his arms to drape around the brunette's neck. "It'll go by quickly. Just think of the time in between as marriage bootcamp."

"But I want you now."

"You already got me, you dork."

"That's true," the brunette smiled happily as he nuzzled against the top of Jeans' head. "You're all mine."

"God, you sound like spoiled brat."

"I am because I get to keep you."

"Weirdo," Jean laughed. Tilting his head up, he kissed his lover on the chin before breaking apart. "Come on, we should have dinner and wash up before it gets too late."

"Yeah, we got an early day tomorrow, too."

"That reminds me," the blonde began as he watched Marco start back up with the cooking. "Where are we going tomorrow? I just want to know so that I can dress accordingly."

"Right," Marco snorted with a roll of his eyes. "Just wear something comfortable; like what you would wear to school when you know you're going to be running around."

"So jeans and a t-shirt?"

"And a light jacket." Glancing to the man standing next to him, the brunette grinned then kissed his lovers' forehead. "Don't worry. It'll be fun. I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, to add to the fluffiness here, I decided to include Marco's morning playlist. Unlike his fiance, who's a monster when he wakes up early, our freckled hunk of love is as chipper as they come. It probably has something to do with the fact that he surfs every morning or maybe remembers to eat breakfast instead of skipping it. Who knows. So here, from me to you, is Marco's good morning set.
> 
>  
> 
> *Look Alive, Sunshine!*
> 
> -"Strawberry Swing" by Coldplay  
> -"Hymn For The Weekend" by Coldplay  
> -"Amazing Day" by Coldplay  
> -"Up & Up" by Coldplay  
> -"Yellow" by Coldplay  
> -"Shiver" by Coldplay  
> -"Brightest Hour" by The Submarines  
> -"Beautiful People" by Sam Ock  
> -"Into Yesterday" by Sugar Ray  
> -"Belle" by Jack Johnson  
> -"Banana Pancakes" by Jack Johnson  
> -"Do You Remember" by Jack Johnson  
> -"Underneath It All" by No Doubt feat. Lady Shaw  
> -"One Tribe" by The Black Eyed Peas  
> -"Third Eye" by The Black Eyed Peas  
> -"Mary Jane Shoes" by Fergie  
> -"My Nutmeg Phantasy" by Macy Gray feat. Angie Stone and Mos Def  
> -"Weightless" by Nada Surf  
> -"Beautiful Beat" by Nada Surf  
> -"Missed The Boat" by Modest Mouse  
> -"Float On" by Modest Mouse  
> -"Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" by The Beatles  
> -"With A Little Help From My Friends" by The Beatles  
> -"When I'm Sixty-Four" by The Beatles  
> -"All Together Now" by The Beatles  
> -"Hey Bulldog" by The Beatles  
> -"It's All Too Much" by The Beatles  
> -"All You Need Is Love" by The Beatles  
> -"Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (Reprise)" by The Beatles  
> -"Nine In The Afternoon" by Panic! At The Disco


	15. Call It Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean celebrates his birthday ahead of schedule with Marco and gets a surprise he never thought he'd get....
> 
>  
> 
> AUTHOR'S NOTE: As promised, these next couple chapters are going to be sweet little bundles of (believable) fluff to make up for the emotional turmoil I have subjected ya'll to thus far. This installment and chapter 16 will be focused solely on Jean and Marco whereas chapter 17 will revolve around Levi and Eren. Following that is the Graduation/Australian Open arc which maaaay be a little rough on the feels; or maybe not. I haven't decided yet. Anyhow, enjoy the cuteness and don't be shy with any feedback.
> 
> -Mars <3

Jean could feel Marco leave the bed because, even with flannel sheets and several blankets on top, the warmth quickly faded without its human heater present. Groaning as he rolled over to stare at the space where his fiance had been sleeping, the blonde lazily pried his eyes open. On the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed was the simple black alarm clock that flashed 6:30 a.m. 'Why is he up this early? Is he going surfing?' the man pondered as he glared at the red numbers blinking back at him. Marco had said that today was going to be all about Jean but what could he possibly have planned that would require them to wake up that early?

When the aroma of coffee and pancakes wafted into the room, Jean decided it was time to get a move on. Grudgingly, he slid out of bed. With a small frown and wild bedhead, he wrapped the gray plaid throw blanket around his frame before heading to the living room.

A faint chill rolled down the photographer's spine as he entered the large open expanse of the living space at the end of the hall. He could hear the light patter of rain coming down outside and birds chirping in the distance. It was any wonder why the brunette would open the windows on a day like this when they both didn't fare well in cold weather. 'Weirdo,' Jean smirked at the thought. Sometimes Marco could be a real ditz; didn't matter how smart he was textbook-wise.

Spotting the man in question in the kitchen, Jean shuffled over to join him. Grunting a hello, the young man reflexively tilted his up so that Marco could kiss his forehead as he passed by. After receiving his routine good-morning greeting, Jean picked up the cup of coffee that had already been made for him; Sumatra brew with one Splenda and two creamers in his favorite "Good Morning Asshole" mug. Joining Marco by the stove, the blonde slowly sipped the at the hot drink while leaning against his fiance.

This had been their routine every day for the past two and half weeks before the incident. While both men weren't really "morning people," Marco was more pleasant and mellow in the early hours of the day than his partner was. Securing an arm around the blonde's waist, the older man flipped the three banana pancakes in the pan. As they cooked, he set the spatula down to take an appreciative sip from his own cup of coffee. A small smile graced the brunettes' tired features and brightened his dreary brown eyes when Jean turned to hug him once he had polished off his drink.

Lifting the hand that had been around his fiance's waist, Marco lovingly ran his fingers through Jean's adorable bedhead. "Morning love," he murmured; sleep still heavy in his tone.

"Morning," Jean said with an equally scruffy voice. Craning his head back a bit, he kissed the brunette on the chin. "Thanks for the coffee."

"Mhmmm."

"And the pancakes."

A warm chuckle rolled out of Marco as Jean began trailing kisses from his ear down to his shoulder. "You're more affectionate than usual this morning."

"Rude," the blonde scoffed with fake indignation. Nuzzling the crook of his lover's neck, he nipped at the skin as his arms pulled them closer together. "I was in the middle of a pleasant dream this morning but it was interrupted when you got out of bed."

"Really now?" the brunette sighed as the warm hands gripping gently at his shoulders began to travel down his back--teasing the sensitive skin beneath his shirt--before stopping at his hips. "What were you dreaming about? Anything good?"

Humming with a lazy smile, Jean bit his lip playfully as he rested his chin on Marco's chest; his amber eyes glowing bright with mischief. "It was definitely good. You even had a starring role."

"Pizza delivery boy or handy man?" Marco joked as he turned the stove off then let his hands return to massaging Jean's sides and lower back.

"More like sexy husband making me breakfast."

"You got turned on from dreaming about me making you breakfast?"

"Kinda," the blonde smiled lovingly before taking in a small gasp as his lovers' hands smoothed up his back; sneaking beneath the fabric of his shirt. "However, if I tell you anymore we won't make it out of this house and I reeeeally want to know what you had planned for today."

"Fine," the brunette sighed. Placing a longing kiss on Jean's lush lips, he loosened his grip. "I don't know how I'm going to keep my hands under control today."

"The feeling's mutual. We can always tear into each other when we get home though."

"I think we'll be too exhausted to do anything babe."

Arching a single questioning brow, Jean tilted away from the man in his arms in an attempt to crack that handsome poker face he had on. "Marco Keani Bott, what are you hiding from me?"

"You'll just have to wait and see," Marco grinned with a waggle of his brows. "What? Don't you trust me, Jean Pascal Kirstein?"

Upon hearing his middle name, the blonde immediately blushed as a small frown pulled at the corners of his mouth. He had never liked the sound of it mainly because it was too fancy. But despite his disdain for the frivolous second name his mother had bestowed upon him, Jean couldn't stay upset. As Marco apologized while kissing his nose, cheeks, and ear, the young man struggled to hold back his laughter. Giving in when the brunette began whining, he turned back around to give his fiance a quick kiss.

"You've been talking to Charlotte, haven't you?" Jean said matter-of-factly as he swayed gently in the brunette's arms.

"Maybe. Are you upset?"

"No," he smirked when an idea came to mind. "But now, as atonement for using my middle name, you have to call Charlotte by her middle name when you two meet for the first time."

"Damn it. Fine, what is it?"

"Shoshanna."

Catching that wicked gleam in Jean's amber eyes, something told Marco that she wasn't going to like that. "She's going to kill me."

"Oh yeah. She hates her middle name; more than I hate mine actually."

"Well, in the event that she does end me, bury me with my wetsuits."

"God, you are such a dork," the blonde groaned with a humored smile. "And I'll bury you in your boxers and Hufflepuff t-shirt."

"That doesn't sound like much of a threat to me," Marco laughed as he pulled him in for a loving kiss on the cheek. "Anyways, we need to eat then start getting ready to go. We've got a schedule to keep and I doubt that the traffic heading out will cooperate with us."

"True."

Detaching from each other, the couple finished making the last of the pancake batter that remained in the bowl. Sitting down for a half hour, they ate their breakfast while talking about which roads would be the best to take since part of the PCH heading toward Los Angeles had been closed for maintenance. Jean tried asking questions that would get Marco to reveal something about the mystery destination but the man was clever. He knew exactly what his blonde lover was trying to do and dodged every query with a thought out response that answered his question without giving anything away.

\---------------------------------------------------------

After breakfast, they headed to the bedroom to rinse off and get dressed. As Marco took a quick shower, Jean brushed his teeth, washed his face, and picked out his clothes. The moment the brunette hopped out, the blonde took his place under the soothing stream of hot water while his lover scrubbed his own pearly whites and rummaged through the closet for something decent. Slipping into his favorite dark blue slim jeans which he cuffed at the bottom, Marco threw on a white scoop neck t-shirt and tied a black, grey, and cream plaid flannel around his hips in case it got cold later in the evening. Grabbing his tried and true black hoodie and dark brown canvas messenger bag with the red racer stripe down the center, the brunette only needed to slide on his white low-tops and then he'd be ready to go. 

Relaxing on the bed with his headphones on, Marco whistled when Jean entered the room wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. Laughing, the blonde shook his head at how his fiance shamelessly eyed him up and down. Deciding to have a bit of fun, the young man playfully ran his tongue across his top row of teeth while fiddling with the knot that held the white towel in place. With a wink, Jean teased the fabric to rest lower on his hips--revealing his toned stomach and most of the v-lines on either side of his pelvis. He loved how Marco looked as if he were seconds away from jumping him. It was empowering to see the kind of sway he held with the man.

"See something you like?" the blonde cooed as his fingers toyed with the knot of the towel.

"I'm about thirty seconds away from eighty-sixing the plan so yeah, I definitely see something I like."

"Hmm," Jean hummed as he turned around. Letting the white terry cloth cover fall from his hips, he caught Marco's hungry gaze in the full length mirror in front of him. "I don't know. I was looking forward to seeing what you had set up."

Sliding off the bed, Marco took his lover by the wrist and spun him around; catching his mouth in a heated embrace. The moment their lips met, Jean wrapped his arms around the mans' neck. As one hand toyed with Marco's hair, the other clawed gingerly at the smooth bronze skin between his shoulders. Their tongues teased each other while their lips locked in place; parting only when it was absolutely necessary. While the blonde moaned into the kiss, Marco ran his hands down the flawless expanse of that fair back. Brushing over the dimples at the base of Jean's spine, he could feel himself losing control. And while the idea of pinning his partner to the bed and working him into a moaning shivering mess before fucking him hoarse was tempting, the brunette dug deep to find the strength to restrain himself.

Breathing heavily, Marco pulled away from the embrace with both his hands gripping Jean by the shoulders. "I'm going to wait in the living room."

"Damn, almost had you."

"Another second and you would have," he said, sneaking another glance at the blonde's half-hard length. Flicking his gaze back up, he was met by Jean's knowing smirk. "Don't take too long."

Biting his bottom lip, Jean tilted his head up and kissed the brunette on the chin while nonchalantly pressing against him. "'Kay. I'll be quick."

With a final groan as the man bit at his jawline, Marco tore himself away from the amber-eyed minx that was moments away from robbing him of the little control he still possessed. Jean knew exactly how to work him; it was one of his many talents and right now the man was playing him like a fiddle. So, before he could fall any deeper, the brunette left the room. He didn't trust himself enough to look back because his resolve would probably crumble if he saw that beautiful naked form a second time. Closing the door behind him, Marco took a deep breath then released it in a long sigh. 'That was too fucking close,' he thought quietly. Willing the heat beneath his skin to go away, the man walked down the hall and slumped into the long sand colored couch in the living room.

In an effort to calm himself, the brunette laid down with his ankles dangling off the far end of the sofa and stared at the ceiling fan. Watching the wooden blades circulate the air around them, Marco mouthed the words to "Just The way You Are" by Bruno Mars. It was one of his favorites for multiple reasons. But over the last couple of weeks, it had come to remind him of his endearingly awkward fiance. Like the lyrics said, there wasn't a single thing he would change about Jean. He was perfect the way he was. 

Young, old, grumpy, happy... Jean was beautiful no matter what the occasion was. Even in his sleep the man was adorable. Yet, Marco loved it the most when Jean was laughing because the stars paled in comparison to his smile. And in that moment--as if he had summoned the young man--Marco rolled his head to the side to see his fiance standing there wearing that shy smirk he adored.

"You look comfy," the blonde said as he sat on the arm of the couch that Marco's head was resting on.

Humming happily as Jean kissed him with one of his warm hands placed over his heart, Marco beamed back at him while running his own fingers through that flaxen hair. "Ready to go?"

"Yup."

"Awesome." Standing up, the brunette noticed that Jean was wearing the same outfit he wore on their first date; glasses included. Kissing him again, he wove their hands together then placed a sweet peck on the top of the young mans' ring finger. "Let's get going."

\--------------------------------------------------------

As predicted, the first half of the drive was littered with bumper to bumper traffic, pockets of open highway, and moderately paced interchanges. Jean was grateful Marco was driving because he would have gone postal with the number of people that were cutting them off or swerving between lanes. It was as if Darwin's theory didn't apply to California; half of the idiots on the road were rich enough to cheat the rules of survival by paying lawyers to sue anyone that got too close to their uselessly large Cadillac.

While his fiance navigated the gauntlet of cars coming at them, the blonde was in charge of the music selection. After spending enough mornings together driving to class or the farmer's market, he knew that Marco preferred lighter jams before 9:00 a.m. Scrolling through the thousands of songs in his library, he snorted a laugh when he found a song he knew would put a smile on the mans' face. Turning up the volume, Jean tapped play. The moment "Just The Way You Are" by Bruno Mars came on, he could see the smirk tugging at Marco's mouth. Subbing every she, her, and girl for he, him, his, and boy, the young man sang along to the melody; serenading his fiance as if they did so every day.

Laughing with an open-mouth smile, Marco joined along while wondering what the chances were that they were thinking the same thing in that moment. Stealing a glance at Jean, the brunette almost melted when he saw the look of joy on Jean's face. After changing gears, he reached across the divide and knitted their hands together. It was such a stupidly perfect moment that not even the world crumbling down around them could ruin this feeling. He didn't care what the future brought--be it good or bad. All that mattered was that Jean was his and that by the end of the year they would be married.

"Hey Jean," Marco called over the sound of the music and the wind coming in from the windows.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Shaking his head, Jean kissed the back of the brunette's hand. "I love you too."

After a quick pit stop in Glendale for coffee and restock on snacks for the road, the couple continued on their journey. Now that they were bright-eyed and bushy tailed, it was safe to play the other half of the music on Marco's phone. It was difficult deciding what to listen to though since he literally had every genre available and over eight hundred artists to choose from. Stuck between The Fratellis, The Raconteurs, and Cage The Elephant, Jean asked Marco to pick a number between one and ten. When the brunette said "purple," he rolled his eyes. Unplugging the sleek black iPhone, the photographer hooked up his cell and scrolled through the music he had downloaded. 

Very rarely did he swap out their phones because Marco had such a broad selection on his that there really wasn't any point in changing them. However, whenever the man decided to get cheeky, Jean would play a song from his library. Landing on a song the brunette didn't have, he quickly tapped on it and waited for a reaction.

"Michael Jackson? Really?" Marco gave a short laugh as 'You Rock My World' blasted through the speakers.

"Well you didn't pick so I hooked up my phone."

With his eyes trained on the road ahead, the brunette nodded along to the song until he noticed an added pair of vocals overlapping almost perfectly with the recording. It took him a moment before Marco realized that it was Jean singing next to him. Had he not glanced to the side, he would have thought it was just the singer's voice being doubled up for effect. In between lane changes, he looked at the blonde as he sang along in perfect pitch with the song. Matching word for word, the young man grooved to the jam as he effortlessly replicated the King of Pop's tone. Marco couldn't help but be impressed since the vocal range was enough to wear down almost anyone. It was only when Jean turned to the left that he caught the brunette staring at him; awestruck with a hint of bewilderment.

"What?" the young man asked feeling an awkward blush dust his cheeks.

"You can sing?"

It was less of a question and more of an observation.

Shrugging, Jean turned away to hide his embarrassment. "I was in choir during middle school and a couple years in high school. It's not that big of a deal though."

"Uh, babe, you were half an octave away from going full blown King of Pop."

"Why does everyone say that? I don't sound anything like Michael Jackson."

"Yeah, you kinda do."

"Right, whatever."

Shaking his head, Marco turned his attention back to the highway as he flipped on the blinker. "You know, one of these days I'm going to take your audio recorder and use it while you're singing in the shower."

"You do that and I'm hiding your gun board with the black stripe down the middle."

"You wouldn't!"

"Oh I most definitely would."

Gobsmacked with his mouth hanging wide in disbelief, Marco slowly smiled. "Fine, I'll use my own."

"I'll still hide your board," Jean said flatly while eyeing the music library through the dark lenses of his aviators.

"You know you're pretty savage when you want to be."

"So I've been told."

"Brute."

"Princess."

"And don't you forget it," the brunette joked.

Chuckling, Jean reached across and tugged on his lovers' ear. "Like you'd let me."

Reacting fast, Marco turned his head and kissed the soft palm of Jeans' hand. Nipping at the finger that Jean used to tap his nose, he smiled brightly as did his fiance. The fun little exchange ended when the brunette caught sight of the passing exit sign. Engaging the blinker, he switched gears to quickly traverse the three lanes separating them from the off ramp before he down shifted to match the slower speed of the surface streets they were about to turn onto. 

Pulling up to the red light at the end of the ramp, it did not take long for Jean to realize where they were. He had been distracted for most of the ride; well, all of it actually. But now that they were sitting idle at a light, he had a moment to take in the surrounding environment. The second he glanced up and saw an artificial mountaintop covered in snow, it dawned on him where they were.

"We're going to Disneyland? Are you fucking serious?"

"You said you've never been so I thought it'd be fun." Peeking at the blonde through the corner of his sunglasses, Marco arched a solitary worried brow. "Do you not want to go?"

"Are you kidding?" Jean gawked as he looked out the window as they began to move again. "I've been wanting to go to Disneyland since I was five but my parents never had the time."

"Well I bought us passes so we can go whenever we have a day off."

"Seriously?" the blonde whipped his head around wearing a childlike smile.

Laughing at the look of pure joy on his lovers face, Marco nodded. "Seriously. Happy birthday Jean."

"You know, I could marry you right now; that's how happy I am."

"Don't tempt me babe," the brunette teased although he was half serious with his threat. "Hey, can you grab my wallet from my bag and take out the black American Express card?"

"I can just spot for parking."

"Not a chance. You aren't paying for a single thing today."

"Marco--"

"Jean, put it away," he commanded, eyeing the blonde as he pulled out his own wallet. Waiting until he put the leather billfold away, the older man returned to his usual chipper self. "I want you to enjoy today and relax. We haven't had a lot of time to just hang out and, when the break ends, I'll be tied to the computer writing my final research papers. So let me do this for you, 'kay? I've been planning this for weeks."

For a moment, it was hard for Jean to absorb everything he had just heard. Of course Marco had taken their schedules into consideration and was well aware of the monstrous workloads they'd be facing when they came back from spring break. But where Jean's final week line-up was mildly intimidating, his fiance's was downright horrifying. It was the thanks he got for being a full-time grad student and the outgoing staff manager for the campus radio station. He hardly had any time as it was but had somehow managed to clear his schedule for these last seven days. And as much as Jean wanted to contribute to the trip, he wasn't about to rob Marco of this.

"Fine, you win," Jean sighed handing Marco his soft black leather wallet from the inside of his bag, as requested. "But I get to pay for everything on your birthday and you can't fight me on it."

"Deal. I was planning on staying in anyways."

"Like hell we are."

Rolling up to the ticket booth, the brunette greeted the woman manning the station then waited as she retrieved their parking pass. "Well, I'm down for anything so long as we can relax together. I don't need you to do anything big or fancy for me. I'm happy just chilling on the beach with you and surfing."

"I know but I want to do something. You're my first real relationship Marco," the blonde said as he took the pass from the dashboard to read the numbers and corresponding letters on its front. "Also, what kind of fiance would I be if I didn't do something for the guy that saved me in more ways than I can count."

Noticing the tone of his voice, Marco waited until they had parked and the engine was off before he leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "You saying yes to my proposal is enough for me. So long as I can wake up next to you and fall asleep holding onto you, I'm good."

"I almost forgot how much of a hopeless romantic you are," Jean laughed lightly as he fought to hold back sentimental tears. Since when was he so easily moved?

Rubbing his nose against the blondes, the brunette flashed that breath-taking smile. "You'll get used to it."

Rolling his eyes, the young man kissed his lover. "Eventually."

"Eventually," the other smirked with a wink. "Come on, let's get going before the horde of strollers and screaming toddlers hits the park."

"Gotcha."

\-----------------------------------------------------------

It was endearing how excited Jean was just on the tram ride heading from the parking structure to the front entrance. Since Marco had bought their passes online ahead of time, they didn't have to wait in the hideously long lines at the numerous tickets booths set up yards away from the park gates. Because this was the blonde's first time getting a Disney pass, he had to wait patiently as the woman that scanned them in took his picture with a company device. She told him that it was for identification purposes to make sure his card didn't fall into someone else's hands. As Jean entered the park, he noticed the same woman give Marco a friendly pat on the shoulder followed by a "stay out of trouble."

When the brunette caught the look on his fiance's face he smiled innocently.

"She's an old family friend," Marco said as he took Jean's hand in his. "My mom has also done a lot of work on the newer attractions here so the employee's know us. Well, they know of us because of the last name."

"Must be pretty cool having that connection."

"Kinda. It was more of a drag when I was a kid because, as much as I liked running around the park while my mom and dad were working, it got boring after a while. Roller-coasters aren't any fun as a single rider you know."

"What about Ymir?"

Snorting a laugh, the older man cracked a knowing smirk. "Ironically enough, she's terrified of roller-coasters. The only one she can handle here is the Indiana Jones ride and it isn't even classified as a coaster."

"Ymir's afraid of roller-coasters?!" Jean laughed disbelievingly. "We're taking about your sister right? The one that speeds and grew up surfing the pipeline."

"The same. She's a lot more mellow and easy-going than you think. I was always more reckless when we were little while she was the voice of reason I didn't listen to until I was in the hospital with a broken arm or something."

"I can see that," the blonde nodded. He couldn't lie; Marco was a walking paradox of grace and chaos.

"Speaking of Ymir, there's something I promised her we'd do."

"Oh God, what is it?"

"Shesh, thanks for the vote of trust love," Marco scoffed with faux offense.

Taking a quick detour, the brunette wandered into the hat shop near the Disney Gallery. As Jean looked around at the various caps, sequined ears, and decorative headpieces available for purchase, he didn't notice Marco grab two matching sets and head to the register. Putting it on the company card Aulani had given him years ago for park visits only, the man thanked the cashier then turned to find his fiance staring inquisitively at a pair of Cheshire Cat inspired Mickey ears with a small purple and magenta hat nestled between the fuzzy discs.

Leaning in, he kissed Jean on the cheek while draping an arm across the back of his shoulders. When the blonde looked up, it was with that same childlike joy he had been brimming with on the tram ride over. It was amazing that something so mundane to Marco could stir up such a sense of wonder and happiness in another. Had the brunette ever been that excited about just hanging out in a hat shop at Disneyland? He couldn't remember since park visits had become routine occurrences by the time he was ten. After spending the majority of his youth flying between the Orlando park during the summer with Hector and the Anaheim location during the winter and spring with Aulani, Marco was desensitized to the "magic" most people felt during their visits.

However, gazing into those beautiful amber eyes had the brunette seeing stars. It was like someone had lit a mass of fireworks in the golden pools that looked to him with unbridled excitement. 'How does he do that?' Marco wondered as he kissed the blonde on lips for a short sweet moment. How did he go from being a skilled seductress to adorable in the time span of four hours? Marco was fairly sure he would never know the answer to that question yet could honestly care less. To him, it was just one of the many quirks that made Jean the man he was; strange and beautiful.

"What's in the bag?" Jean asked while eyeing the plastic carrier in his partners' hand.

"Follow me for a sec."

Exiting the shop, Marco waited for the horse-drawn trolley to pass by before crossing the street. Making it to the massive center island that housed a small greenway and sitting area, he stopped so that they were standing directly in front of the Main Street train station. Telling Jean to close his eyes, the brunette pulled out a pair of Mickey Mouse ears with "groom" sewn into the right ear and a small black top hat with a white sash placed between the black velvety discs. Chuckling when the blonde fussed about the way the arms on the headpiece bumped against his glasses, Marco told him not to peek until he said so. Quickly, he slipped on his matching ears before removing his phone from his back pocket.

"'Kay, you can look."

When Jean opened his eyes, he saw their reflected image in the screen of Marco's phone right as he took a picture of them in their matching groom ears. Blushing to his actual ears, the blonde groaned as he rolled into his fiance's chest--effectively burying his face in the fresh cotton of the other mans' shirt. He could not believe that they were wearing wedding Mickey Mouse ears. It was corny, ridiculous, and disgustingly sweet which was typical Marco. Yet, despite it all, Jean couldn't find the energy to be bothered by it. Rather than feeling embarrassed by the very public declaration, he was somewhat emboldened by it.

"You're such a dork," Jean growled playfully as he pinched Marco's chin and gently tugged it back and forth. Kissing him, the young man let go of a content sigh. "Why are you so adorable?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Marco winked. Giving his partner a quick peck on the nose, he moved back in so that their cheeks were touching. "Okay, last one with the ears."

Before the shutter clicked, Jean turned to give his fiance a kiss on the cheek. As the camera went off, it captured the love bubbling up in Marco's smile that made his hidden dimples appear and the freckles across his face more prominent when his nose sprunched up from the laughter escaping through his lips. It was an idyllic moment frozen in time that they'd be able to look back on and remember as the start to a perfect day.

After setting the picture as the wallpaper for his lock screen, Marco sent the picture to Ymir with the message "Greetings from the Magic Kingdom" attached to it. Moments later she shot back with a "Well shit, you actually got him to wear them. Have fun you two." Laughing, the brunette shoved the phone back into his pocket before taking Jean's hand. As they wandered around Main Street, the two went back and forth about which land they should visit first. Even though Marco had already ridden every ride in the park more times than he could count, everything felt new now that he had his fiance there. So, since it was Jean's first time, he let him pick where they went.

Stopping briefly in Tomorrowland to secure a fast-pass for Space Mountain, they caught the train to Critter Country. The line for Splash Mountain was a short wait since it had been drizzling earlier that morning. However, it was bright and sunny now so it was the perfect time to go on it if they planned on doing so that day. Because he was privy to knowing that the park up'ed the water levels the closer it got to summer, Marco sat in the last seat where it was less wet. He may love surfing and didn't mind being caught out in the rain but it was a different story when jeans and tennis shoes got involved. On the final drop, the picture that was automatically snapped of every log going over the edge revealed Jean's look of utter disbelief. Right behind him was Marco laughing like mad.

"You could have told me I was going to get soaked," the blonde griped as he wrung out his striped pull-over raglan shirt. Thankfully, he had a plain t-shirt on under it and the sun was warm enough that it'd dry him out soon enough.

"I forgot," Marco lied with a chuckle that gave him away. Unlike Jean, he had stayed relatively dry. "Where to next? Pirates of the Caribbean is pretty fun."

"I don't think I can handle another water ride right now."

"Then how about Big Thunder?"

Smiling as he wrapped an arm around Marco's waist, Jean pointed his hand holding the slightly less damp shirt forward. "Lead the way. Maybe it'll dry me off."

"Maybe," the brunette grinned while kissing the top of his lovers' head.

After Big Thunder Mountain, two rounds on Pirates of the Caribbean so that they could find all the hidden Mickey's, and a trip through the Haunted Mansion, the couple took a break for lunch. Relaxing on the back porch of the Fisherman's Wharf in between Critter Country and the French Quarter, they watched as riders on Splash Mountain went over the drop then came around; each log of visitors varying in how soaked they were. Polishing off their bread bowls of clam chowder, they meandered along enjoying the sunshine and medley of sounds, scents, and sights.

Ducking into a store wedged between Frontierland and Adventureland, Jean poked around for a gift while Marco waited in line to buy them the park's famous Dole Whip ice cream. When the brunette returned after about twenty minutes, he was met by his fiance sitting on the stone ledge outside of the store. With a sly smirk, the blonde took his ice cream before handing the bag to his partner.

"What's this for?" Marco beamed, still not having looked inside. 

"I saw it and I thought of you."

Eyeing the young man as he took a bite out of his Dole whip, the brunette arched a brow while he stuck his hand in the bag. His fingers brushed over what had to have been the ears of a mid-sized plush toy. Glancing down when he felt a tail, a smile followed by a laugh as Marco's composure broke.

"Really?" he said as he removed a plushie of Pua. "The pig from Moana reminds you of me?"

"Well you're nickname does mean 'pig,'" Jean teased as the brunette rolled his eyes. "Don't worry. I bought the chicken for Ymir."

"Make sure you're wearing battle armor when you give it to her."

"Will do," said the blonde as he got up and kissed Marco on the jaw. "Right. You ready for Indiana Jones?"

"I'm always up for Indie."

Time blurred as the hours passed in a dizzying flurry romantic gestures, sudden bursts of laughter, and shared firsts. Unable to keep his hands to himself, Jean hung tightly to Marco whenever the opportunity presented itself. Whether it be stealing kisses here and there or basking in the simple joy that came from holding onto the brunette while waiting in line for a ride, the blonde couldn't get enough; couldn't touch him enough to sedate the burning need he felt. 

They were the couple every one hoped to be--madly in love and unafraid to proclaim it. Perfect strangers would stop to tell them how sweet they looked together. Some even asked if they were on their honeymoon or celebrating their anniversary. Near the end of the afternoon, the two lovers' had given up on correcting people. It wouldn't be long until they were married so why not get a head start on calling each other "husband"? 

After an early dinner, Jean had to go pick up his pass at the distribution center by the front entrance of the park. It wasn't a long wait since the majority of visitors had come earlier in the day; something the blonde was happy they had forgone. While he looked over the map with Marco--planning where they would go after the detour--he missed the first and second call of the window operator shouting "next!" Looking up purely by chance, the young man took notice of the older gentleman in a smart button down and striped vest waving his hand from his station. Quickly, Jean made his way to the man on the other side of the room; apologizing for his absentmindedness. 

The operator--or Arthur as his badge stated--only smiled while politely dismissing the apology. There was a small pause as Jean's information was pulled up. When Arthur asked him to verify if the information on the screen was correct, the young man saw this as his opportunity to surprise Marco with something he had been planning on keeping a secret until their wedding. Leaning across the counter at an angle that would block the brunette's line of sight, Jean "corrected" his information then gave Arthur a small smirk and nod in approval.

Despite the knowing spark in the older gentleman's eye, he kept his composure as he waited for the pass to print. Flashing the blonde guest an equally mischievous smile, the man removed the warm plastic card from the digital printer to his left.

"Here's your pass Mr. Kirstein-Bott. Thank you for being an annual passholder and enjoy the rest of your stay at the magic kingdom," Arthur said as he handed Jean his pass.

"Thank you. Have a relaxing day," the blonde beamed back while his fiance next to him stood there with his mouth hanging open.

As Jean turned to leave, Marco followed. Once they were outside and had made it across the street to the small park in front of the train station, the brunette tugged his lovers' wrist enough to spin him back around so that they were facing each other. Before Jean could speak, he felt Marco's lips press against his in a long endearing kiss that grew in sweetness the more it dragged on. Since they were in a family setting, the older man kept a lid on the heat that normally exuded from their more excited spontaneous entanglements. When they parted, he studied Jean's face as if it were a map of the stars and he were Galileo.

"You're taking my name?" Marco breathed with a hint of disbelief though his eyes swam with childlike wonder.

Wrapping his arms loosely around his fiance's neck, Jean nodded with a smile. "I hope you don't mind. I know it's not official yet but I wanted to."

"I would never complain about you wanting to take my last name," he chuckled between light pecks on the young mans' lips, nose, eyes, and forehead. "I kind of feel like crying to be honest."

"Seriously? It's only a name babe."

"I know but do you understand what it means?"

"Why do you think I did it?" the blonde spoke while his fingers combed lazily through Marco's soft wavy hair. "I want to be tied to you in every way possible Marco. Charlotte can carry on the Kirstein family name since that's what she had planned on doing anyways. But me, I want to be your family. That's what it means when you get married. Besides, being a Bott looks like more fun."

Gazing down at the young man in his arms, Marco felt his heart soar. It was ridiculous that such a simple thing could render his mouth useless while simultaneously sending his mind into a spin. There was so much he wanted to say; so much his soul screamed out to convey but the words wouldn't take form. All he could do was stand there in a state of total shock as wave after wave of admiration and love battered him into submission. 

Slowly, the world faded around them until they were the only two left; just like that afternoon at the wharf while heading to San Francisco. Time stopped and the vibrant pops of color from the buildings and people passing by washed together into a backdrop created solely for the purpose of displaying Jean's beauty. 'Mine,' was the first word that came to mind as Marco watched those glittering honey amber eyes watching him just as closely. Leaning in, he kissed Jean with both hands cupping the young mans' face; his thumbs brushing the flawless skin beneath them.

"You're everything Jean," he rasped, caring nothing of the people staring at them. "And I can't wait to tell everyone that you're mine; that you're my ohana."

The word rang in Jean's ears as it was spoken. It was the only Hawaiian phrase he knew and understood the gravity of what it meant. Nuzzling into the crook of Marco's neck, he breathed in that scent he loved so deeply that captured the boundless joy of long summer days spent at the beach. It was the same now as it was the day they had first met at Rincon; sunblock and citrus with notes of salt and fresh woods. Yet, though it was the same now as it was then, the emotions that it drudged up were stronger--fonder and painful in a way that Jean happily subjected himself to. This was perfect love. This was family. And this man was his future.

"And you'll be mine," Jean smiled as a single tear escaped from his eyes and trailed down his lightly blushed cheek. "You'll be my ohana, always and forever."

"Always," Marco whispered against his lips before kissing them. Lingering in the tender embrace for a long moment, he parted; eyes now swimming with tears that reflected the overwhelming happiness he felt. "I love you, Jean Kirstein-Bott."

Holding the brunette's face in his hands, the young man thumbed away the clear droplets as they quietly sneaked across his lovers' flushed freckled cheeks. "I love you Marco Bott." Sealing the words with one more kiss, Jean let his hands drop to gently tangle with Marco's before pulling away. "How does a front row seat of Fantasmic and cotton candy sound?"

"It sounds like the perfect way to finish the day."

"Oh, I wanted to stop by the candy palace place before we leave. I thought I'd grab Eren, Armin, and Mika a souvenir since they all like sweets."

"That's fine," Marco said with a faint sniffle as he wrangled in the raw emotions that had had control of him a minute ago. "I told Ymir I'd pick up a few boxes of the chocolate coconut patties for her and Krista."

"Chocolate what?"

"That's right, you've never had them before. Well, in that case, I'll buy four boxes."

"Don't you think that's a bit excessive?" Jean chuckled as they walked hand in hand down Main Street while the sun slowly said its farewell across the evening sky.

"Not really," Marco beamed as the blonde ran his thumb over the skin on the back of his hand. "Krista and Ymir would each get a box and we'd get two. I'm not really big on sweets but these are my favorite. I used to eat them all the time as a kid and my mom would put one in my lunchbox when I was in elementary school."

"Four boxes it is then."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The ride home wasn't as brutal as Marco had originally predicted it would be but the Friday night traffic added another half hour to their drive. While Jean relaxed in his seat with the window down and both eyes shut, his fiance kept his gaze trained on the road ahead. Humming along to "Rain City" by Turin Brakes, he reflected on the days events. Part of him wondered if his heart would ever get used to the sound of his last name tagged onto Jean's. It made his pulse quicken and his chest ache with sudden swells of love. 

How could four letters with a single syllable between them cause such an intense rush of emotion? Marco had heard his last name more times than he cared to count; had written it millions of times and remembered how it sounded when his ex's said it. But even so, nothing could have prepared him for how it would feel when Jean said it so easily as he tacked it on to his surname. It felt right; like that was how it was meant to be all along. And while the real thing was yet to come, Jean had taken the first step forward by gleefully taking Marco's family name as his own. So, to match his lover's boldness, the brunette decided he would make an honest man out of him.

Turning onto his home street of Puesta Del Sol, Marco pulled into the driveway of his slumbering home. Quietly, he reached for his messenger bag and removed a small black velvet pouch before slipping it in his pant pocket. After taking a calming breath, he placed a hand on Jean's shoulder and shook him lightly to draw the man out from his shallow sleep.

"We're home already?" the blonde groaned while he stretched out both arms and rolled his head to loosen the stiff muscles in his neck. "What time is it?"

"It's almost one-thirty."

"What? That late already?"

With a soft smile, the brunette smoothed back the hair that had fallen onto his lovers' forehead. "Yeah. There was some traffic I couldn't get around but it wasn't too bad."

"I'm sorry babe," Jean leaned in as his hand reached out to hold the side of Marco's face. "You look exhausted. I could have drove home if you were this worn out."

"Nah, I'm fine. Hey, could we go for a walk? There's something I wanted to talk to you about and I could use the fresh air."

"Umm, alright. What's up?"

"I'll tell you in a minute, 'kay?"

Silently, Jean exited the car as Marco closed the door on his side. Walking around to the passenger side, the brunette took his fiance's hand in his with a warm though tired smile. It had been a long day and he really was running on fumes now. But there was something much more important than sleep that needed tending to. It had been nagging him for the past couple of days since Jean had been discharged from the hospital and now was his chance to make things right.

The couple strolled through the dimly lit ocean front neighborhood until they came upon the path that led to the shore. Pushing the toe of his left shoe against the heel of his right, Marco removed his white low-tops; leaving them on the sandy gravel by the edge of the road. He waited as Jean did the same and set his favorite beaten up pair of olive green chucks down next to his. Then, taking the moonlit trail down to the beach, he took another soothing breath to calm his nerves.

"You know," Marco started as their feet met with the cold damp sand of Rincon beach. Bathed in the pale glow of the half moon, the broad expanse of land and sea looked as if it had been dreamt into existence. "I never got to thank Charlotte the last she called."

"What for?" Jean snorted a laugh as they continued walking while kicking little pebbles and stones in front of them.

"For saving you," the brunette said, a mixture of seriousness and tenderness peppering his tone. "If she hadn't found you that night, I wouldn't be standing here with you now. But," Marco paused, stopping in his tracks both mentally and physically. "I also want to thank you, Jean for finding the strength and courage to keep going after everything you had lived through. Thank you for coming to California, driving to this beach that morning, and for being here at the exact same time I was."

"Marco...?" the young man breathed as the hand holding his trembled.

Looking up, Marco was caught in that lovely amber gaze that was offset by the ethereal moonlit haze shining over them. "Thank you for taking the chance and talking to me during club rush, for coming to the party, and sticking around even though I had pissed you off. Thank you for kissing me," he laughed as the tears rolled down his tragically beautiful face. "Thank you Jean for agreeing to go on that date, for sticking around and never judging me even when I acted childishly or selfishly. Thank you for saying you love me because I am so hopelessly in love with you and I know I keep saying it but I can't stop because you really are my world. You said I saved you, but you have no idea what my life was like before you came into the picture. I didn't know how lonely I was until you blew me off the first day of class. If you hadn't spoke to me during club rush, I'd probably still be living the way I was up until then. But you took a chance and reached out to me. You saved me Jean, in more ways than I can count."

"Great, now I'm crying," Jean chuckled as he felt streaks of warmth travel across his cheeks.

Laughing with him, Marco leaned in and kissed him for a short sweet moment before he pulled away. Then, without looking away, Marco held Jean's hand tighter as he got down on one knee. Recognizing the gesture immediately, the blonde's breathing stuttered and his heart began to flutter. He watched as his lover reached into his pocket and removed a small black pouch, out from which tumbled two rings. Pushing the larger one into his back pocket along with the sac it had been in, Marco looked back up at Jean. This was really happening.

"I know you said you didn't need a ring or anything but I wanted to do this right. So," the brunette smiled as he held up the glittering platinum band. "Jean Kirstein, will you marry me?"

Unable to speak at first, the young man nodded swiftly. As Marco slid the band over his ring finger, Jean collapsed to his knees to collect him into a long kiss. "Yes, Marco. A million times 'yes,' I will marry you."

Wrapping his arms around his fiance's shivering frame, the brunette slowly ran one hand over the smooth expanse of Jean's back while the other cradled the back of his head. "Thank you Jean for finding me."

"And thank you for waiting," the blonde sniffled as he wiped away the tears. Parting just enough to see his face, Jean bit his bottom lip while looking between Marco's back pocket and his warm brown eyes. "Do you have your ring?"

"Yeah."

"Can I put it on you?"

Smiling, Marco removed the matching platinum band from his pocket and placed it in Jean's hand. He watched as his lover slipped the ring over his long slim finger to secure it in its rightful place. Staring at their joined hands--now adorned with twin bands engraved with "ohana" on the inside--the two men felt the world go still for a moment. It was official now; they were engaged. Not that it couldn't be without a ring but the weight of the words settled in so much stronger now than it had that time in the hospital. This was real. They were engaged and, in eight months, they'd be married. Chuckling to himself, Jean placed his hands on either side of Marco's face and brought him in for another one of their unbearablely sweet embraces they had become famous for in the newsroom.

"I love you Marco."

Kissing him back, Marco then placed a small peck on his nose and forehead before pulling his fiance close for a much needed hug. "I love you more," then, glancing at his watch as it struck 1:50 a.m., he smiled. "Happy birthday Jean."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so before I get any emails arguing why Marco is or is not a Hufflepuff, let me just say that I myself am not a Hufflepuff so it wasn't out of party loyalty; I'm a Slytherin-Gryffindor blend so yeah, theory debunked. I just personally feel that he has more traits belonging to that house than any of the others. Also, read click this link below and tell me it ain't true.
> 
> https://www.pottermore.com/features/why-you-should-fall-in-love-with-a-Hufflepuff
> 
> \------------------------------------
> 
> So before Marco was the senior DJ at KCSB, Ymir was the queen of the radio waves. Here is her shows' master list and, as you'll see, there are a number of songs by Korean and Japanese artists. This is because Ymir took four years of Korean and traveled to Seoul and Tokyo while she was earning her bachelor's degree. She has also had the honor of working alongside G-Dragon, Big Bang, CL, f(x), and Amber Liu of f(x) while interning in South Korea when she was 25. Enjoy. ;)
> 
>  
> 
> *ASSIMILATE OR DIE!*
> 
> -"Niliria" by G-Dragon feat. Missy Elliot  
> -"I Am The Best" by 2NE1  
> -"Crayon" by G-Dragon  
> -"One Of A Kind" by G-Dragon  
> -"Take Over Control" by Afrojack feat. Eva Simmons  
> -"Sweet Dreams" by Beyonce  
> -"Rock That Body" by Black Eyed Peas  
> -"Boom Boom Pow" by Black Eyed Peas  
> -"Lose Control" by Ciara feat. Fatman Scoop and Missy Elliot  
> -"Kill Bill" by Brown Eyed Girls  
> -"Bad Boy" by Big Bang  
> -"Fantastic Baby" by Big Bang  
> -"Michigo" by G-Dragon  
> -"R.O.D" by G-Dragon feat. Lydia Paek  
> -"Get Lucky" by Daft Punk feat. Pharrell Williams and Nile Rodgers  
> -"Locked Out Of Heaven" by Bruno Mars  
> -"Diamond Days" by Cruel Youth  
> -"Mary Jane Shoes" by Fergie  
> -"Cherry Lips" by Garbage  
> -"I Think I'm Paranoid" by Garbage  
> -"19-2000 (Soulchild Remix)" by Gorillaz  
> -"Dirty Harry" by Gorillaz  
> -"Dare" by Gorillaz  
> -"Hey Baby" by No Doubt feat. Bounty Killer  
> -"Making Out" by No Doubt  
> -"Platinum Blonde Life" by No Doubt  
> -"Underneath It All" by No Doubt feat. Lady Saw  
> -"Move Your Feet" by Junior Senior  
> -"Strawberry Bubblegum" by Justin Timberlake  
> -"Tunnel Vision" by Justin Timberlake  
> -"Sexy Back" by Justin Timberlake  
> -"TKO" by Justin Timberlake  
> -"Only when I Walk Away" by Justin Timberlake  
> -"Dark Horse" by Katy Perry feat. Juicy J  
> -"Ninja Re Bang Bang" by Kyary Pamyu Pamyu  
> -"Gimme Chocolate" by BABYMETAL  
> -"Uki Uki Midnight" by BABYMETAL  
> -"Judas" by Lady Gaga  
> -"Applause" by Lady Gaga  
> -"Love Game" by Lady Gaga  
> -"Just Dance" by Lady Gaga  
> -"Telephone" by Lady Gaga  
> -"Hold My Heart" by Lindsey Stirling feat. ZZ Ward  
> -"We Are Giants" by Lindsey Stirling feat. Dia Frampton  
> -"Sexy And I Know It" by LMFAO  
> -"Party Rock Anthem" by LMFAO  
> -"Go Kindergarten" by The Lonely Island feat. Robyn  
> -"Paper Planes" by M.I.A  
> -"Bad Girls" by M.I.A  
> -"Animals" by Maroon 5  
> -"White Lies" by Max Frost  
> -"Nice And Slow" by Max Frost  
> -"Genghis Khan" by Miike Snow  
> -"Heart Is Full" by Miike Snow  
> -"Get Ur Freak On" by Nelly Furtado feat. Missy Elliot  
> -"Maneater" by Nelly Furtado  
> -"Promiscuous" by Nelly Furtado  
> -"Body Gold (Louis The Child Remix)" by Oh Wonder  
> -"Technicolour Beat" by Oh Wonder  
> -"Lose It" by Oh Wonder  
> -"Landslide" by Oh Wonder  
> -"Without You" by Oh Wonder  
> -"The Rain" by Oh Wonder  
> -"Dazzle" by Oh Wonder  
> -"They Way You Move" by Outkast feat. Sleepy Brown  
> -"Roses" by Outkast  
> -"Another One Bites The Dust" by Queen  
> -"Killer Queen" by Queen  
> -"Fat Bottomed Girls" by Queen  
> -"Shut Up And Drive" by Rihanna  
> -"S&M" by Rihanna  
> -"We Found Love" by Rihanna  
> -"Ghost Town" by Shiny Toy Guns  
> -"Le Disko" by Shiny Toy Guns  
> -"Bangarang" by Skrillex feat. Sirah  
> -"Scary Monsters And Nice Spirits" by Skrillex  
> -"Make It Bun Dem" by Skrillex & Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley  
> -"Breakn' A Sweat" by Skrillex feat. The Doors  
> -"Female Of The Species" by Space  
> -"1940" by The Submarines  
> -"Sing It Back" by Moloko  
> -"Rolling Stone" by The Weeknd  
> -"Heads Will Roll" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs  
> -"Y Control" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs  
> -"Maps" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs  
> -"Rich" by yeah Yeah Yeahs  
> -"Date With The Night" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs  
> -"Icky Thump" by White Stripes  
> -"Fell In Love With A Girl" by The White Stripes  
> -"Love Interruption" by Jack White


	16. The Breath Inside My Lungs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Marco double down as the end of the semester approaches, people in the newsroom start catching on that something in their relationship has changed, and Levi and Eren have their first fight...
> 
>  
> 
> ALERT! MUST READ!!: So this chapter takes place in mid-May. Yes, it's a huge time gap from the last installment but I'll drop clues and fill in the blanks as you read along so the loose ends are tied up. But I wanted to get the ball rolling on this because it just felt better than slowly dragging it out. So yeah, sorry but not sorry. Haha! (Still love you though. <3)
> 
> Consider yourself warned though. And for those of you who didn't read the author's note first, skimmed through the chapter, and then read this AFTER trying to figure out what was happening throughout the chapter, I've got two words: tsk tsk.

The wave crashed down hard before bubbling up the shore in a flurry of white foam and murky water; licking the rocks and driftwood that coated the Rincon coastline. The ruddy glow of the morning sun had just begun to break over the horizon, painting the sky with shades of glistening gold, smoky orange, and a menagerie of blues as the day chased away the shade of night. As the yellow spot climbed higher, it slowly replaced the chill of the marine layer with the A-typical humidity of mid-May weather.

Crouched on a collection of stable rocks far enough from the wave break, Jean held his breath as his lens tracked Marco's movements out at sea. On the exhale, he pressed down on the shutter button--capturing a series of thirty rapid action frames as the brunette launched himself into an aerial trick. His piercing gaze never once left the figure gliding freely across the water; internalizing his movements while noting subtle variations in the different stances he switched in and out of.

Since spring break had ended, the two had taken to going out every morning for three hours to work on refining Marco's technique. If the man was going to stand on the world stage of competitive surfing once more, Jean was determined to make sure he was in top form. He wanted to make sure his fiance was back to his old self in the water--if not better--mainly to ensure his safe return home. It was part of the deal they had made weeks ago when Marco accepted the invitation. He would practice every morning to bring himself back up to speed and, in exchange, Jean would agree to have the ICD surgery after they got back from visiting his family in late June. And with graduation and the competition just a week and a half away, every moment counted.

"Shit!" Jean gasped as a particularly sneaky wave rolled up out of nowhere and crashed on the rock break in front of him. Jumping to his feet, the photographer almost fell as he held his camera up and away from the salt water threatening to destroy it. "Not this time you don't, fucker."

A burst of laughter in the distance carried itself across the waves to where the photographer was standing in his matching black compression surf shirt, shorts, and then white boardshorts with a scowl painting his lovely features. Glancing up at the sound, a snarky smirk came to his face when he saw Marco laughing like mad as he chilled on his board while waiting for the next set of waves. Lifting his new Nikon D5 camera, Jean snuck a quick dozen shots of the brunette while the smile forced his eyes shut. He really was too beautiful for words. Yet as the young man looked over the pictures he had just taken, none could top the first snapshot he had taken of the man.

Glancing down at his waterproof watch, Jean muttered a small string of curses. "Babe," he shouted loud enough that the other man could hear him. "It's almost six-thirty. We need to get ready for class and head out."

"Seriously?" Marco called from the water. When the blonde nodded with a finger tapping at his wrist, the brunette groaned. "Okay, I'll head in."

Looking over his shoulder, Marco spotted a decent enough wave to bring him back in. As the six foot "biter" built up in the last few seconds before it broke, the man had swung his board around with blinding agility and rode it in. Swiftly uncoupling the strap from his ankle as the shore approached, Marco hopped off of his Rocket 9 fish board once the waters were shallow enough to do so. Securing the custom board snugly under his left arm, he jogged inland as the dwindling wave licked at his ankles as if trying to pull him back into the surf.

After greeting his fiance with a sweet peck on his cold lips, Jean wrapped an arm around his waist as they wandered back across the sand dunes. This had become their morning routine and, as such, had earned them recognition from the early bird dog walkers and surfers that were just now getting to the beach. Nodding to Mrs Huck--their neighbor from two doors down--the men dodged her two chocolate labs that came barreling down the path. Behind their owner was Yair Dahl, the Boeing accountant across the street that only slept in the afternoon and worked most of the day and evening. Holding on tight to his own longboard, he smiled at the couple as they wished him a fair ride out on the water while passing by.

Once they reached the house, Marco headed straight to the garage to hang up his board and turnout his wetsuit. Yet as he went to reach for the zipper, his hand was met by the cool brush of Jean's fingers. Chuckling, the brunette quirked a brow; wondering what his intentions were.

"I thought we needed to get ready for class," Marco spoke softly.

"I'm just helping you out of your suit," Jean stated matter-of-factly though not without an air of playfulness.

"Is that so?"

"Mhmm," the blonde hummed as he pulled the zipper down, revealing the flawless bronze skin of Marco's back.

Mesmerized beyond words, the photographer's hand only stopped once the pull-tag had reached the end of the track at the base of the brunettes spine. Smoothing the palms of his hands up the neoprene covering his lovers body, Jean gently grabbed the folds by the neck then tugged them down. Bit by bit, Marco's shoulders came into view, covered in freckles washed by the sun's golden kiss. Next was his arms, back, waist and hips. It was like unwrapping a gift only better because Jean could touch the mans' beautiful form whenever he wanted.

Leaning forward, Jean kissed the space between Marco's shoulder blades; marveling at how warm the skin was beneath his lips despite being covered by a wetsuit all morning. As he did, the brunette reached behind him and took his lovers' hands in his. Knitting their fingers together--their engagement bands lightly clinking as they touched--he brought the fair hands to rest at the center of his stomach. Chuckling when Jean bit playfully at the curve of his spine then sighing as he nuzzled against the same patch of skin, Marco felt his heart flutter and lungs squeeze gently. Looking down at their joined hands, he smiled.

"I wish classes were already over," he murmured as he brought Jean's ring finger to his lips for a soft kiss. "I miss spending time with you. All we ever do anymore is work, study, and practice for the Aussie Open."

"I know babe, I miss our mornings together too," the blonde sighed into his lovers' back. "We'll have more time though after you graduate. We just got one more week to go and then it's just us."

"You, me, and the bed," Marco smirked.

Snorting a short laugh while tightening his grip around Marco's waist, Jean grinned. "I'm going to run you ragged. You'll be seeing spots when I'm done with you."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart. Consider it my graduation gift to you."

Turning around in place, the older man leaned down far enough to kiss the patch of Jean's chest covering his heart then gave a quick peck on his lips. "Deal. I look forward to it."

"Dork," the blonde chuckled before bringing him in for a long sweet "Hollywood" kiss. Running his hands up Marco's chest, he secured them around the mans' neck. "We should get ready for class."

"We should," Marco said; his eyes burning bright as he eyed Jean up and down.

Biting his lip with a smirk, the photographer groaned as he pulled away from the pleasant entrapment. He wanted so badly to linger like that for a moment longer but knew better than to let his lover have his way. The last three times they had done that, they wound up being half an hour late for class. So, acting like the adults they both knew they were, the two men separated with a final smoldering glance.

"I'll go make us some breakfast while you wash up," Jean called as he walked toward the door leading inside the house.

"Yeah, sounds good," Marco answered with a strained tone. Cursing at himself and his half-hard member, the brunette dragged both hands through his damp chestnut hair. "Damn it. Well, what am I going to do about you?" he quipped looking down at the straining bulge that was still confined by his wetsuit. Would there ever be a day when Jean didn't get his blood rushing like a horny teenager?

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Arriving on campus a half hour ahead of time, Marco parked the car and exited carrying his and Jean's messenger bags as his fiance handled their coffee's. Taking his medium cafe latte while simultaneously looping the black waxed leather satchel over his lovers' head and shoulder, the brunette dropped his now free hand to lace together with the blondes. 

Glancing down at their intertwined fingers, he frowned internally at the absence of their rings. They had agreed over the break not to wear them on the proper fingers--opting for the center or ring finger on their right hands--because it would cause unneeded drama. And while he knew it was true and wanted to keep their new relationship status under wrap until graduation, part of Marco wanted to slip that band onto his left hand so that everyone knew that they were a sealed deal.

With a kiss, the couple parted ways at the main doors leading to the newsroom. They wouldn't see each other for the next five hours so they made the embrace count. It was as Jean parted his lips and tasted Marco's tongue as it rolled over his that they heard a deep grunt and a stifled laugh. Separating immediately like high school sweethearts caught making out in the hallway during class hours, the couple felt a collective blush overtake them when they were met by Levi's hard indifferent stare and Connie's knowing smirk.

"You mind moving? Class is about to start and I'd hate to be late because you decided to block the entrance," Levi dished with a taunting glint in his silvery blue eyes.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that," Marco obliged as he moved him and Jean off to the side.

Taking a step forward, the professor reached for the doorknob then paused. "You coming?" he asked, eyeing the blonde whose arms were still wrapped around the brunette's waist. "I'll mark you late if you don't get in there."

"Right," he sighed, letting go of Marco. Giving his fiance a final kiss, the photographer reluctantly let go of his hand. "See you later at lunch."

"Yeah," Marco smiled sadly. "Remember to take it easy while you're designing and call me if you need help with headlines."

"Kirstein has his advisors for that and a team of editors. You, however, have three final exams you need to study for," Levi ordered as he yanked the door open. "We've got a handle on this M. You worry about yourself and I'll keep an eye on Jean, 'kay. I'm still your faculty advisor for the next ten days so beat it before I make you wish Petra was the adjunct and not me."

"Fine, whatever Levi," the brunette grumbled as he turned to leave.

"That's Professor Ackerman, Bott!" Pivoting back around, the dark-haired spitfire arched a scrutinizing brow at Jean. "You going to get moving or do you need an invitation?"

Rolling his eyes, the blonde stomped inside. Since the end of the break, Levi had been on a tear. If the first years thought he was a terror in the beginning of the semester, he was a downright monster now. Barking orders whenever someone had neglected their duties as editor or a reporting staff member while cracking the whip on design days, it was impossible to approach the guy. Even Shadis kept his distance; letting Levi have full reign of the newsroom while he sat back and drank his coffee. But apparently, from what the senior editors had told him, this was normal behavior.

Levi was one of the best in his field; teaching or otherwise. As editor-in-chief of two publications--both the Daily Californian and the Daily Nexus, he won a total of forty-six awards from state competitions, regional conferences, and national championships. He was seasoned a photographer that had been scouted by three prestigious publications straight out of college and was recently courted by National Geographic to return as their senior photo editor. He knew how to run a tight ship and the Daily Nexus was no different. The moment he entered that room, all eyes were on him and everyone sat at attention, waiting for their marching orders. 'A natural born leader,' Jean thought as he watched everyone buckle down and busy themselves with working on their page designs the second Levi waltzed in through the door.

\----------------------------------------------------------

"Alright kids, this is the last issue before the break and, for some of you, your final run with the Nexus so let's make it count," he bellowed in the that deep resonating tone that could both bring elation and devastation depending on the person. "I don't want to see any floating decks, kissing headlines, excessive tracking on the graphs, or grainy photo's. These last three issues are what we're taking to regional's in the fall so do your incoming teammates a solid and don't fuck it up. Got it?"

When everyone answered with a nod or verbal confirmation, the professor released a sharp exhale while plopping down on the couch next to the stack of papers he needed to read over. Resting his Doc Marten clad feet on the edge of the IKEA grade coffee table in front of him, Levi waited until everyone was immersed in their work before he pulled out a pair of Sony PIIQ Exhale earbuds in neon yellow and shoved them into his ears. Leaning forward as he reached for the first stack of tests that needed grading, he scrolled through his music library searching for something that would help him concentrate.

Settling on "How We Met, The Long Version" by Jens Lekman, the advisor began sifting through the papers in his hand. Silently cursing his teachers assistant for mixing the Monday-Wednesday class with his Tuesday-Thursday evening class just because they were both photography 203, Levi made a mental note to tear the kid a new one if he did it next semester. Sometimes he wondered if people even listened to him at all with the frequency at which they kept repeating the same mistakes. After ten or so minutes, he finally had the lot sorted and could start grading the exams. Pulling the answer key from the manila folder to his left, he sat it down on the table though hardly looked at the thing. He had internalized all the answers years ago when he was a student himself.

As expected, forty percent of the class was passing--barely--with a "B" while ten percent had made it to the "A" bracket. The rest was floundering somewhere between the C's and D's. A scowl had carved into his features when he noticed three girls, all of whom were friends outside of the newsroom, were getting the same answers wrong from white balance to aperture and shutter speeds. Groaning, he double checked his key before he wrote "F, come see me after class" across the top of all three. He hated failing his students but, more so than that, he hated it when people cheated on their assignments. In the four years he had been teaching, he had only experienced this once before with a particularly rebellious little shit that thought he could get away with doctoring a copyrighted image to make it look like his own. Now, as it would appear, he'd have to have a similar conversation three times in the same afternoon. Lovely...

Reaching inside his bag next to the couch, Levi removed what he thought was his Vanilla Starbucks Double Shot only to notice that it was instead Eren's mocha double shot. Pausing for a brief moment, he stared at it in wonder while his brain connected the dots. He must have grabbed the wrong one that morning on his way out. The brat had done a Grade-A job of running him down the evening and he still hadn't recuperated by the time the alarm went off. 'Well, since he doesn't seem to need it,' he chuckled as he opened it and took a long swig. If the kid was going to keep him up all night then he could at least pay Levi back with a drink; especially considering that they hadn't gone to bed until 2:30 that morning.

When he went to take another drink from the can, the advisors' piercing gaze caught the photo editor eyeing him shyly through the frosted glass dividing his desk on the other end of the room from the main meeting area. When their eyes met, the brunette looked away immediately; fumbling with his keyboard and clicking aimlessly at something. It was almost endearing how awkward the boy was even though they had seen each other naked and down so much more than just look at one another. Staring a bit harder at him, Levi laughed on the inside as Eren's green gaze flickered up then shot back down as a blush blossomed across his cheeks. 'God damn, he's fucking adorable,' the older man smirked. After a third sip, he got back to grading. Sneering faintly as he marked the answer for the very obvious "Black Tux, White Dress" question wrong, he flipped back to the first page to see who had gotten that one wrong.

"Jaeger," Levi said loud enough the most of the students in the room--with and without headphones on--looked up. However, when Eren didn't, the advisor tried again. "Jaeger!!" he barked with frightening command causing the young man to jump in his seat.

"Yeah?" the editor said, slipping the left muff of his headphones off. "What's up?"

"Get over here."

"Whhhhy?"

Levi's eyes narrowed sending a chill down the spine of anyone within sight. "Because I have your test in my hand and a pen that's about to fail you if you don't get over here."

Groaning, Eren slipped the headphones off and dragged himself from his comfortable work chair. He was in the middle of pressing fifteen different photo's and still had to sort through Lance's shots of the cultural fair for the front cover and photo essay. He didn't have time to sit around and listen to Levi chew him out. They may be an item and love each other but they were both professionals--especially in the newsroom where everyone was basically on level playing ground--and he had a job to do. Standing at the advisors' feet with both arms crossed, the brunette shrugged.

"You rang?" Eren sassed.

Shooting his lover a withering look somewhere between irritation and humor, Levi quirked a brow in opposition. "You're really going to take that tone with me? Do you have any idea where you are right now?"

"I'm on deadline Levi and I have two folders I got to look through and a bakers dozen to press."

"And I'm your professor and faculty advisor. If I say 'come here and sit down' you do so without argument. Now sit."

It wasn't a question or a request. The fierce bite in his tone made it clear that it was an indisputable command. It was rare for Levi to take that tone with anyone; when he did, it usually spelled trouble for the other person. Deciding it was best not to push his luck any further, Eren sat down with a quite sigh. Skimming his tongue across the edge of his top line of teeth out of habit, the older man handed the young man his exam with the Tux-Dress question marked incorrect with a "Really Eren?" written in bright red next to his incorrect answer.

"You got it wrong, again," Levi said, putting emphasis on the last word. "How many times have we gone over this in class and during your directed study hours? Seriously kid, are you even paying attention?"

"How is my answer wrong? I wrote exactly what you had up on the board."

"You wrote what I said NOT to do. If you had been paying attention, you would have known that."

"Well sorry for getting confused."

"Don't get all indignant with me Jaeger," Levi snapped as quietly as he could. He may love the kid but he didn't have to like him at that very moment. "I've told you that you have to use a broad softbox and a reflector to bounce back the light to fill the negative space dozens of times and yet you still got it wrong."

"Well it's not like I'm the only one."

"You're right. You and two others got it wrong out of a class of fifty people. You feel proud now?" The moment he said the words he regretted them immediately. The embarrassment and shame that flooded his eyes hit Levi like a firm slap in the face. He had gone to far. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm just tired and stressed out from all the paperwork I got to get through today," he murmured low enough that only Eren could hear him.

"It's fine," the brunette shrugged; forcing the tears to stay where they belonged--off his face and locked away from the public. "I screwed up and got it wrong."

"Eren..."

"Can I get back to work now?"

Their eyes met in a heated gaze; Eren's pained and ashamed and Levi's grappling to take back the injury he had just verbally inflicted. Why did he feel like it was okay to get pissed off over such a trivial thing? Out of all his students, Eren was the hardest working and took great pride in what he did; and for the right reasons. So what if he didn't know how to balance the light for a black tux-white dress shot? It was Levi's job as his mentor to patiently teach him enough times until the information stuck. Yet what was he doing? Snapping at the kid he had vowed to never hurt with his punch-happy best friend watching no less.

When Levi didn't answer, the editor took that as his cue to leave. With a sigh, Eren left the couch and rejoined Jean back at his desk. Ignoring his friend when he asked what had happened, he slipped on his headphones and cranked up the music. Humming along to "What's My Age Again?" by Blink-182, he gave everyone who tried to talk to him the cold shoulder. After the third try from one of the greenhorn photographers that had been bugging him throughout the week, Eren pulled up his medium sized yellow post-it pad and wrote "RADIO SILENCE!" on two long notes and stuck them on the top of his computer. Anytime someone came around to irritate him, the brunette tapped on those signs then pointed to Jean in silent command to take all their grievances up with him. A low growl escaped from his past his lips when his work was interrupted, again, but this time by his phone vibrating in his pocket.

LEVI: Let's talk after class.

Setting the phone face down on the desk, he ignored the messaged until a second and third one rattled the device.

LEVI: Will you answer me?

LEVI: Please, Eren?

Biting his lip with frustration stinging his eyes, he glanced up to find his lover looking as indifferent as usual except for his unconsciously shaking leg. He knew Levi only did that when he was nervous because it was the same response he had when he was waiting for the call from Shadis to tell him whether or not he was still going to be allowed to teach at UCSB. Eyes flicking back to the message on the screen, he gathered that the man had realized the error of his ways. So, just this once, he'd go easy on him.

EREN: Fine. With the shitload of pictures I have to press, I'll probably be here late anyways.

LEVI: Thank you. Love you Eren.

That wasn't fair. He had no right using those words especially when Eren was trying to stay angry. Levi had messed up and had to learn his lesson so why was Eren going weak in the knees just because he had said three simple words. Well, it was probably because it was Levi and those words were far from simple.

EREN: Damn it...

EREN: I love you too Levi. I'm still pissed off at you.

LEVI: I know and that's fine.

EREN: No it isn't. We'll talk after class. Now get back to flunking me.

LEVI: I'm not flunking you, idiot. You passed the test. Question eight was the only one you got wrong so don't beat yourself up over it. Talk to you later kid.

With a small chuckle, Eren rolled his eyes and turned on airplane mode. He needed to get these pictures ready for print before the end of the day and would prefer to not spend his entire evening in the newsroom, brooding alone while glaring at the computer screen. The young man had a life of his own to lead and a partner that had some apologizing to do and he wasn't about to let him get off scot-free. Levi was going to work a little for that forgiveness and, chances were, the older man knew that too. 

So with his schedule locked in place, Eren got to work fine tuning the three dozen photo's he was juggling until they singed with perfection. Mouthing the words to the YouTube sensation, "Heyyeyaaeyaaaeyaeyaa (Fabulous Secret Powers)" by SLACKCiRCUS, the editor forced his brain to cooperate with him for once today and concentrate. Deferring all staff issues to Jean, who was working on the photo essay on the station next to him, Eren quickly began tearing through the mountain of work he had. Maybe, just maybe, he could get this done before 10:30 tonight.

\------------------------------------------------------------

Jean had been sitting at the computer for so long his legs felt like Jell-O when he stood up to go to the bathroom. They were coming up on the eight hour mark and, unlike almost everyone else, he was one of the few people that had all of Tuesday open for assisting with page layouts and design. Between Levi's tyranny and being an absolute dick over every little thing and the seemingly endless stream of reporters complaining over why their story wasn't going to print or photographer's whining about how they wanted Eren to use a different picture for their story, the blonde was just about ready to scream. 

Grinding his teeth as Reeza--a photographer in Ackerman's 120 class that didn't know when to quit--came striding up behind him just as he had sat back down, Jean grabbed one of his friends' "Radio Silence!" sticky notes and smacked it onto the top of his screen. He was done handling their complaints. If they wanted the picture of their choosing to make it into the paper, they could come every Tuesday and Saturday afternoon to help with layouts just like Jean did. 

Cranking up his own music, communication between the photo editor and his blonde wingman was reduced to a series of knowing glances, grunts, jerks of the chin, and facial expressions that no one else in the newsroom could decipher. Without further interruption, the two men finally got into their groove. Dubbed the "Wonder Twins" by Marlo who had never seen that level of cooperation outside of siblings, they worked in perfect tandem. As Eren finished a photo, he'd send it off to Jean who would then take it, apply the final touches to it, and then place it on the page and add the captions. They were such a force of nature that Connie and Sasha had even started watching the two while they were on their lunch break.

"They're kinda freaky when they get going huh," Sasha mumbled to her boyfriend as she ate another strawberry marshmallow from the variety pack Connie had bought her. "Like, they were always weird like that but now it's like their brains are fusing or something."

"Yeah, I think they're even bobbing their heads in sync."

"So I wasn't the only one that noticed that?"

Shaking his head, Connie grabbed a marshmallow from her bag. "Nah, it's kinda noticeable. Wait, are they listening to the same song?"

"Probably," she shrugged. "Wouldn't surprise me."

"How the hell do they do that? It's like they don't even notice it."

"Five bucks says you can't figure out what they're listening to."

"Ten says I can," Connie smirked devilishly from behind his glasses as he stole the pink puff his girlfriend was about to toss into her mouth.

"Who are you guys talking about?" Marco asked as he entered the newsroom. Swiping a sweet from Sasha's bag, he sat down at the large meeting table while popping the treat into his mouth. "Why are you two lurking on Jaeger and Jean?"

"They're doing that weird twin thing they do sometimes so we wanted to watch," the woman said matter-of-factly as if there were nothing strange about her statement.

"Right. Now let's pretend that didn't sound creepy."

"Seriously dude, check it out," Connie gently nudged Marco's shoulder with the knuckles of his balled up hand. "We're trying to figure out if they're listening to the same song. Sasha"

Turning his attention to the duo in question, the DJ watched them together at first. At first glance, it looked like they were singing the same song since their heads were bobbing in time with one another which meant the rhythm of the song must have been similar. However, Marco had the upper hand because he knew Jean and his fiance didn't listen to PSY. Eren, on the other hand, did which was why after a moment or two of trying to mouth along to what the younger brunette was singing, the older man had figured them out. Whereas Jaeger was happily grooving to "Gangnam Style," his blonde partner-in-crime was lip-syncing to "Ghost Town" by Shiny Toy Guns. They were his go-to when he needed to get a lot of work done in a short amount of time. And when the song switched, Marco could tell exactly what was the follow up.

Rising from his seat, the older brunette walked over to his fiance then tapped him on the shoulder. When Jean glanced up, a bright smile found its way to his face. Unable to stop himself, Marco leaned down to kiss him sweetly while his hand came up to cup his lovers' cheek. As it did, Sasha's eyes narrowed in on a glittering band that hadn't been there before; or at least, she didn't remember it being there. Oddly enough, it was an exact match for the one that had magically showed up on the middle finger of Jean's right hand. And while there was the possibility that they could be wearing promise rings, those were a bit too high grade for such a thing.

Nudging Connie, the woman whispered in his ear before jerking her chin toward the objects in question. Eyes wide, Connie came to the same conclusion as his girlfriend. Quieting down the moment the couple walked past them with a polite "see you later," the chatter reconvened once the door closed behind them.

"Holy shit, Jean's engaged?!" Connie said aloud to Sasha without thinking of where they were.

"Oh my God, that's so cute!" Sasha bubbled while bouncing in her chair.

Snapping to attention immediately, both Levi and Eren stared at the knuckleheads between them before their eyes met. They both knew from the shared look of exasperation that there wouldn't be any hiding it if those two kept running their mouths. But Eren couldn't pull rank on fellow members of the ed. board. Sensing his distress, Levi sighed as he sat down the papers.

"Oi!" he barked in as sharp and intimidating of a tone that he could manage. "Is that opinion's page finished?"

Hesitating to meet his gaze, Connie and Sasha turned around slowly and shook their heads. "No," the young man began. "We were just taking a break."

"You've been on break for the past forty-five minutes and deadline is tonight. You really going to drop the ball on your team at the last minute?"

Unable to take his crippling gaze any longer, Sasha shook her head more quickly than before. "Nope, I'll get on designing it now Professor Ackerman. Sorry about that!"

"Damn right. Get moving before I have to ask you a second time. God, Marlo and Hitch leave for just a couple hours and you brats can't follow a simple command. Jesus," he mumbled under his breath while picking up his stack of papers waiting to be graded. When he looked back up, the couple was staring at him again. "Get back to work! For fuck's sake, seriously you two."

Sadly though, the damage had been done. The reporters and photographers on the fringes of the room who were supposed to be minding their own business where now privy to Jean's private life and had taken to talking about it in hushed tones when the advisors weren't looking. Everyone knew that the two men were a couple but there were a number of women on staff that were holding out for the day they'd break up so that they could court Marco. It was cut-throat how quickly they got to work gossiping about them while they weren't present to defend their relationship--not that they should have to. And as Levi glanced up from his paperwork and saw the gaggle of girls whispering under their breath, he knew exactly that the shit was about to hit the fan.

"God fucking damn it," he sighed angrily to himself. "One fucking day. Is that too much to ask?"

Being a bestman was going to be a lot harder than he had originally anticipated. Especially now that it meant guarding his friends' privacy and reputation before a band of babbling bleach blondes could ruin it. This was going to be a long day which meant he'd be staying over. Fantastic... Just fan-freaking-tastic.

\--------------------------------------------------

Entering the newsroom after parting ways with Marco once more, Jean immediately noticed something was off. For some reason the three girls that all chewed watermelon bubblegum and had dyed their hair blonde--Jennifer, August, and Stacey or was it Jennifer, Autumn, and Casey?--watched him off and on as he came in and sat down. Thinking nothing of it at first, he slid his headphones back on and looked through the pictures Eren had sent him during the break. As he worked on placing the photo's in their proper place and captioning them, he couldn't help but notice the girls staring, yet again.

Eyeing him up and down as if appraising him, they turned back in to whisper among themselves; laughing as if he were wearing his clothes inside-out. Looking between them and the two male reporters on the fringes who had also looked up to stare at him before they quickly turned away, Jean slowly connected the dots. The blondes keep tapping on their ring fingers and would then sneak a glance at him. It was so obvious they were talking about the platinum band he had forgotten he was wearing. He could feel his stomach begin to knot as he watched their lips whisper the words "it's only for the sex" and "bet you he's the bottom bitch." It was happening again; he was being singled out.

"Jean?" Eren said quietly from his side. "Hey man, are you okay?"

"I..." he stammered as he clearly heard the women say 'he's probably the newsroom bike.' Forcing the words to form, Jean got up. "I need to get some air. Sorry."

Rushing out of the room, Jean's pace went from a slow jog to a full-on sprint as he bolted past the radio--catching Ymir's eye in the process--and the workshop room where Marco was studying for his exam. As the young man pushed past the doors, the Bott siblings were hot on his heels; arriving just seconds after. Shaking uncontrollably, he braced himself against the railing that bordered the steps and the little garden that ran parallel to it. Unable to stop his stomach from retching, Jean convulsed sharply and threw up with a pained groan.

"What the hell is happening?" Ymir asked with a fearful expression contorting her feline features. "Is he going into arrest?"

"No, he's having a panic attack. Somethings wrong," Marco said with a level tone though, on the inside, he was screaming. As he approached Jean, he turned back to see Levi walking out onto the exterior lobby space. "Can both of you give us a little privacy? Maybe go back inside and try to figure out what happened that way, yeah?"

"'Kay, let us know if he needs an ambulance."

As they left, Jean groaned; still hanging onto the railing for dear life. "Great, now everyone thinks I'm going crazy or some shit. Fucking beautiful."

"What is happening?"

"You said it yourself, panic attack."

"Why?" the brunette asked while rubbing small soothing circles into his lovers' back. "What happened baby?"

"They know. The fucking rumor mill in the newsroom knows we're engaged."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"It is when they start calling me the 'newsroom bike' and the 'bottom bitch.' God damn it, can I not have one semester without some shit happening?" Spitting the remainder of the bile from his mouth, the young man wiped his quivering lips. "Damn it," he breathed, breaking into a sob as he slid down the railing and sat on the steps. "Why is this happening to me? Why can't I just have a normal life?"

Heartbroken to see his fiance in such indescribable pain, Marco sat down next to him before taking the shaking frame in his arms and holding him tight. "Firstly, you are no one's bike and you are definitely not a bottom bitch. I don't even know how they got that shit from someone saying we're engaged."

"They're Ride groupies, Marco. They've had a thing for you since the start of the semester."

"Well they can piss off for all I care. They can talk all they want but it won't change the fact that I love you and that I'm going to marry you," the brunette affirmed then kissed the crown of Jean's head. "And in all honesty, why should it matter if we're engaged? We're still doing our jobs without any interference and it isn't wrecking the flow."

"It matters because people are going to talk about us."

"People already do Jean. But if we were open about it, I could defend you. I know you don't want me to but I hate seeing you like this. Nobody said shit when Marlo and Hitch announced their engagement, so why should ours be any different?"

"Because we're both men," the blonde sobbed, hiding his face in his fiance's chest. "This is just like what happened in New York."

"No, no it isn't because you have me. And so what if we're both men? There's gay couples everywhere in California so I'm not buying that. Those women are just being petty and we both know it," Marco said sternly. Then, cupping Jean's face in his hands, he kissed him long and deep despite his lovers' initial protest. "I love you and you only. No one else will do for me," wiping away his tears with his thumbs, Marco's gaze became pleading while his tone softened. "It can only be you. It can only be you, Jean Kirstein-Bott; the man who stole my heart when I wasn't even looking."

Laughing at the last part of his statement, Jean pressed his forehead against the brunette's. "I hate it when people talk about what we have as if it's something cheap; like it can be replaced or some shit. It dirties it up."

"But what do they know? It's not like those idiots are going to be in the newsroom next year. Let them talk and if they've got some shit to say, they can say it to me. Let them see what happens when you shit talk someone's fiance."

"They probably won't like it, you're reaction I mean."

"Probably not," Marco chuckled, kissing his man on the nose. "I am proud to have you at my side Jean. You are a talented, beautiful," he said with emphasis on the second word, "absurdly hot and wickedly funny man with more potential in a single thread of hair than all three of those women have, combine. You are the only person I want to give my heart to and share my life with. So let them talk. Let them be nasty, malicious witches because at the end of the day, you're the one taking me home; not them. They don't matter baby. It's just you. Just you and me, okay."

Shaking his head, the young man wiped the tears away from his eyes and looked up. "Yeah," he choked. "It's just us."

"That's right."

Glancing down at his hand, Jean took a deep breath before saying his next words. "Can you move my ring over for me?"

Smiling softly, Marco leaned in and kissed Jean as he removed his engagement band from the right hand to the ring finger on his left hand. Parting for a split moment, the blonde did the same. Slipping it past the brunette's knuckle with ease, he gazed at the bands--now in their proper place where the judgement of others had kept them from before. Beaming from ear to ear, Jean couldn't help but feel the pain lift from his shoulders as their fingers wove together like two puzzle pieces that had been searching for one another.

Lifting their joined hands up to his lips, Marco kissed their twin bands with a grateful gleam in his eyes.

"Come on," he smirked with a playful tilt to his head. "Let's go shock the world."

"Weirdo," the blonde laughed.

"Yeah, but you still love me."

"Always."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

As soon as Marco and Jean entered the newsroom, which was now conveniently filled with all of their closest friends and colleagues, the couple announced their engagement. Much to the chagrin of the three women that had taken it upon themselves to start spreading rumors about them, the couple looked sickeningly happy despite the mini emotional breakdown. But what did it matter to them if Tiffany, Amber, and Lacy--or at least that's what Marco thought their names were--talked shit behind their backs. Anyone who knew the two men would know that their mindless babble was just that; stupid chatter that did nothing but raise the noise level another octave.

What did matter was that Jean was happy. Marco would give anything to see him smile and swore to do everything in his power to keep the wrong people away. He was his precious person; the only one he'd ever have and he'd be damned if he was going to let anyone hurt that perfect man on his watch. Once the day had wrapped and the issue was ready for print, the couple took their leave. It had been an exhausting day and they wanted nothing more than to hide away in their cozy beach house and ignore the rest of the world outside their doors.

However, the same couldn't be said for Levi and Eren.

Lingering as the staff reporters and editors all left--one by one--they stalled until they were the only two people there. Typing away on his keyboard, the brunette finished the captions he had left while his lover did one last rundown of his score card to make sure he got everyone's grade correct. When he heard the sound of the computer across the room shutting down, his gaze lifted. At that same moment, Eren had looked up--catching that silver blue stare with his.

"So," Levi began then trailed off.

"So..."

Staring at him for a moment longer, Levi sighed. Grunting softly as he rose to his feet--stretching his sore muscles in the process--the advisor approached the young man with an air of shyness he had never exhibited before. This was a first for him because he hadn't cared about a partner enough in the past to show them this level of consideration. Eren was the first and it made him sick to his stomach worrying that he may say something to earn the young mans' animosity. He didn't want that. Levi wanted to share his world with Eren. He wanted to give him everything and then some and spoil him rotten but it was hard when the entire board of education was watching them.

Despite his first instinct to love and hold Eren like a proper lover ought to, he instead had to follow his urge to protect the young man; to keep him at an arm's length in case someone tries to sabotage them both. Pissed off students had done worse to poor unsuspecting professors for less in the past so who was to say he wasn't fair game? But in doing so, in his attempt to draw suspicion away from them, he had said something cruel that he knew would hurt the young man the moment he had said the words.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Levi fought to think of what he should say. "Fuck, I'm really bad at this," he chuckled nervously while pivoting away from Eren who was still seated at his desk just a foot away. "I know sorry can't take back what I said or make it better but it's got to count for something. Shit," he groaned when Eren's face showed no change. "What I mean is, I'm sorry for making an ass out of myself and pulling rank like that. I'm your professor and, because of our relationship, I can't show favoritism toward you. But that doesn't mean I have to snap at you and degrade you. I fucked up and I'm sorry Eren. So please, will you forgive me?"

The young man didn't know what to say as he sat there--wide eyed and mouth gaping--because he wasn't expecting that kind of an apology. He had half expected his lover to grumble a 'sorry, I was wrong' then try to smooth things over with a kiss. But instead, Levi had laid it all out there; his fears, anxieties, and the fact that he had to do this--not because he wanted to, but because it was the only way to keep the people on the education board happy. He was trying his hardest to balance being both a professor and a lover but, like all humans, stumbled somewhere along the way. It was only natural that Levi would lose himself for a moment. Yet Eren had built him up to be this perfect being in his mind that was incapable of error. Still, here he was, flawed but it was in that imperfection that Eren could see his real beauty.

"I forgive you Levi," Eren smiled softly as he reached out and took both of his lovers' pale hands in his. Kissing the top of each, he nuzzled them with a deep sigh. "I was acting like a punk and shouldn't have mouthed off to you like that in your workplace. Sometimes I forget that our relationship isn't exactly normal to the other administrators. I'm sorry if I put you in a tough position."

Moving his hands so that he could hold Eren's face in his palms, the advisor leaned in and kissed him sweetly. "Just ten more days and then we don't have to give a shit about what they say. Once you pass my class this semester, you're done with your photography courses."

"Which means we don't have to keep it a secret anymore?" Eren asked as his golden green eyes lit up.

Smirking, Levi nodded. "We won't have to hide anymore. I can kiss you and you can touch me, so long as it's PG," he chuckled before placing a tender kiss on his lips. "You'll be mine and everyone will know."

"Promise?"

"I promise. We just have to survive these last couple of days and commencement."

"Seems like it can't come soon enough."

"Don't rush time, kid. You can never get it back once it's gone."

"Well, I'll enjoy it once we can be together without worrying about the whole student-teacher situation."

Laughing, Levi pulled Eren into a warm hug; letting the boy nuzzle into his stomach and kiss the spot above his navel through the fabric of his shirt. "So, did you want to spend the night?"

"But it's a school night and you said we can't on weekdays."

"I know but it's almost the end of the semester and I'm getting tired of waking up without you."

"Really?" the brunette asked, tilting his head up just enough so that their eyes met.

"Yeah," Levi beamed lovingly as he smoothed the hair away from his lovers' forehead. "So what do you say?"

"Definitely."

"Good."

Smiling back at the dark-haired beauty gazing down at him, Eren bit his bottom lip meekly. "I love you Levi Ackerman."

"And I love you, Eren Jaeger; the sweetest brat that'll someday be the death of me."

"I'm not that bad." When Levi arched a brow, the young man chuckled. "Okay, maybe a little."

"It's alright. I don't mind."

"So, time to go home?" Eren said with a glint in his emerald eyes.

"Yeah," Levi leaned in and kissed him long and slow then whispered, "Let's go home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so as I mentioned in the author's notes portion of the summary, this is the first of four chapters that will be centered around surfing and the feeling and mentality that comes with the sport. And while I have many more playlists to write for you guys (fear not, those of you who like them), I wanted to wrap this chapter with the lyrics to the song that started this entire fic for me. It's a pivotal piece to the story because, without it, this [the fic] wouldn't be here. It is also the inspiration for Marco's character, who he is at his core, and his relationship with something that is more than just a sport to him. So here, from the Bahamas to me and then to you, is "Waves."
> 
>  
> 
> "Waves" by Bahamas
> 
> And I held the breath inside my lungs for days  
> And I saw myself as one of many waves  
> And when I knew I'd become the ocean's slave  
> I just stayed  
> And we carried far with all the waters past  
> Of the waves I was not first I was not last  
> And if we saw a boat afloat we took the mast  
> So fast  
> There's a part of it, that I'll miss  
> At the heart of it, your cold kiss  
> From the start of it, I know this  
> There's a part of it  
> And before too long the waves grew out of hand  
> And they worked to keep the sea at their command  
> And the only thing they feared it seemed the sand  
> And dry land  
> There's a part of it, that I'll miss  
> At the heart of it, your cold kiss  
> From the start of it, I know this  
> Oh there's a part of it  
> From the water there was born a bright blue roar  
> As it rolled and formed and calmed the ocean's floor  
> And it finally rose and broke upon the shore  
> No more  
> There's a part of it, that I'll miss  
> At the heart of it, your cold kiss  
> From the start of it, I know this  
> Oh there's a part of it, I know this  
> There's a part of it, that I'll miss  
> At the heart of it, your cold kiss  
> From the start of it, I know this  
> Oh there's a part of it  
> Oh there's a part of it


	17. See You In My Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren wins top honors for a photo he didn't mean to submit to the end of the year awards for the Media Arts Department banquet, Levi voices his hopes and fears to his young lover, and the two men come to an agreement...
> 
>  
> 
> AUTHOR'S NOTE!: So this chapter is almost entirely dedicated to Levi and Eren and the development of their relationship. There will be fluff, smolder, flirting, tasteful smut, and mini subplot twists. But following this will be the beginning of the Aussie Open/Homecoming arc so ready yourselves, kids, 'cause it's about to get real............after this chapter at least. So enjoy! <3

Graduation was right around the corner with the official countdown at seventy-two hours. And while the rest of the students on campus were relaxing and waiting for commencement to roll around, everyone in the Media Arts department was busying themselves getting ready for the End of Year Banquet that took place at the close of every semester. It was the departments way of celebrating the hard work put forth by all the faculty members and staff on both the Daily Nexus and KCSB radio. Moreover, it was the final curtain call for the outgoing editors, program directors, and station managers and this time it was going to be a rough banquet because they were losing the last four members of the original Golden Age.

It was somewhat surreal that in three hours, Marco and Ymir would bow out and hand the reigns of the radio over to Springer and Gottesman. Levi remembered when all three of them were on Ed. Board together; clocking long hours until the sun pretty much came up. They had made an amazing team and, at times, the advisor missed being a student since it meant less responsibility and more time dicking around with his friends. He also hated being the guy that had to crack the whip on them since they were so close outside of the newsroom. But now he wouldn't have to be the enforcer or authoritarian figure. Now, after four awkward years, they could return to just being friends.

As Eren showered, Levi dried off then slipped into a pair of black sweats with the drawstring haphazardly tied. Syncing his phone up with the embedded sound system in his room, the man shuffled through his music library while patting his hair dry with the ivory towel draped over his fair shoulders. He needed something to calm his nerves since this would be his and the kids first public appearance as a couple and in front of the department committee no less. He knew it wasn't exactly the smartest move but he was sick and tired of hiding their relationship and, as of yesterday, Eren technically was no longer his student. So Levi decided to hang the rules and do whatever he wanted.

Settling on his Favorites list, the advisor put it on shuffle since the majority of the songs on the playlist were soothing in sound and beat. Bobbing his head as "The Party & The After Party" by The Weeknd came on, Levi tossed the towel into the hamper outside the door of his walk-in closet. Tapping the dimmer button twice, the soft light brightened until it filled the space. Hung in four long rows was the mans' broad selection of attire separated by occasion and type. In between the neatly kept racks of clothing were gently illuminated frosted glass cubbies that displayed his dress shoes, sneakers, and boots. At the center of it all were two round white leather couches that sat parallel to each other with five feet of space between them and a three way mirror at the very end of the space. 

It was just the way he liked it--clean and modern with a bit of sophistication. However, in the last month, he had to make room on the racks and shelves for Eren's things since the kid was there fifty percent of the time and Levi had no patience for clothes on the ground in massive heaps.

Without giving the right side a passing glance, Levi began thumbing through the suits hanging to the left of the closet. Pausing at his favorite dark blue blazer, he said a small prayer before removing it, though not for himself to wear. Eren had forgotten to bring his tux the day before and it was too late to drive over to his apartment to grab it--that was if it had even been dry cleaned--so Levi offered to let the kid borrow one of his if he promised to take care of it. They were practically the same size and height with only a half inch difference. It was just a shame that, of all the suits that could have fit his reckless lover the best, it had to be his favorite Hugo Boss ensemble. 'The things I do for the brat,' he grumbled to himself as he laid the midnight blue blazer and matching slacks and a crisp white button-up down on the bed.

Heading back into the closet just as he heard the shower in the en suite bathroom shut off, Levi browsed the remaining dress outfits he had to select from. Any of the twenty suits he had would be appropriate for the occasion. Even his casual Sunday tux would have been fine. But tonight was special. As such, it called for a winning combo.

"Thinking of what you want to wear?" Eren asked jovially as he entered the room wearing nothing but his boxers and a towel over his hair that slumped onto his shoulders. Wrapping both arms around Levi's stomach with a kiss on the cheek, he rested his chin on his lovers' shoulder. "You look good in everything you wear so it can't be that big of a decision. You could probably make a burlap sack look hot."

"I think you're confusing me with yourself," the older man chuckled as he turned just enough so that he could return the kiss with a peck on the kids' lips. "Which one do you like? I can't decide. I'm too tired from finals and I don't want to make a decision."

Gazing at the silk blend blazers, finely pressed slacks, and immaculate white button-up's, Eren narrowed his gaze. "How about a classic black suit, white blouse, and that dark blue slim tie with your silver tie bar?"

"I've noticed recently you have a penchant for putting me in blue."

"It makes your eyes pop."

"Really now?" Levi smirked as his head rolled to the right as Eren began placing small kisses down the pale column of his throat, all the way to his clavicle and shoulder. "Fine, so long as you wear a black tie."

"Are we doing a reverse matching thing?" the brunette beamed in between kisses to his lovers' warm skin.

"Yeah, I guess we are. It'll be our way of pissing off the committee even more than they are."

"Is that really wise?"

"They can't slam me for anything now Eren," the man said as he turned around completely and linked his arms around the kids' waist. Pulling him in for a long, sweet, and mildly teasing kiss, Levi parted with a final little bite on his lovers' lip. "You aren't my student anymore and I'm no longer the official embedded photo advisor for the newspaper now that Petra's back from maternity leave. The most they can do is blow hot air out their collective asses."

Taking a deep breath then exhaling, Eren held his partners' gaze for reassurance. "So we're really coming out tonight as a couple?"

"Mhmm. Or do you not want to?"

"I want to. I've just always been afraid of the repercussions or what could happen to you."

"We'll be fine," Levi said without a second thought. Kissing the boys' nose, he smiled. "I promise."

"Well at least now the girls in class won't ogle over you or try to seduce you anymore."

"You exaggerate."

"Not really. You don't notice it but everyone else on Ed. Board talks about how the freshmen do nothing but drool all over themselves whenever you're in the room."

"Well sucks for them but I'm happily taken."

"Damn straight you are," Eren grinned wickedly as he draped his arms over the older mans shoulders and tauntingly pressed their hips together. "And if they know what's good for them, they'll stay away."

"You the jealous type, Jaeger?"

"Maybe..."

"Interesting," Levi purred as his hands massaged small circles down the bare bronze skin of Eren's back before resting on the young mans' hips just above his firm backside. "I'd like to see what would happen if that switch were ever flipped."

"Maybe you will if those groupies don't mind their manners tonight."

Chuckling, Levi bit his bottom lip with a look of ardor in his enchanting steel blue eyes. "God, I fucking love you," he said almost as a whisper to himself.

"I love you too," Eren smiled softly before delivering an adoring kiss to those pale pink lips that somehow always knew what to say. "Come on, we should get dressed before I jump you."

"More like before I jump you," the older man grinned wickedly as he smacked his lover's backside and placed a playful kiss on his chin. "But you're right. I've got to be there thirty minutes before the show starts to help set up the equipment. So," he paused to give Eren one more kiss before reluctantly parting from the embrace, "let's get going before I lose my self control and get us in trouble."

"Yeah, let's show Marco and Jean what a real scandal looks like."

\----------------------------------------------------------

The sun had started its trek down the early evening sky as guests from UCSB started arriving at the Four Seasons Biltmore Hotel. The advisors and senior staff members, editors, and station techs were the first to pull up to the ritzy beach front property that housed the departments' banquet ever year. Usually, they used one of the smaller rooms that comfortably seated a hundred or so people. However, this time, the venue had to be larger since the head counted had jumped to three hundred. It was one of the biggest spikes in enrollment for a single department in the past fifteen years so, as such, they needed to accommodate all in attendance.

On the terrace of the La Pacifica Ballroom, Marco was already hard at work compiling his playlist to match the nights' Jazz Cat's theme while Ymir was balancing the sound system and adjusting the soundboard. Dressed to the nines, they were the very image of perfection. Looking fine in a classic slim fitting black suit with a dark steel gray tie and crisp white button down with platinum Tiffany's engine-turned oval cuff links to match his engagement ring, Marco was every inch the man his fans and--more importantly--his fiance perceived him to be. At his back, with a pair of galaxy burst Beats headphones on, was his knock-out sister. Contrasting the subtle mystique of her sibling, the woman dared to wear a crushed velvet halter gown that fell to the floor with a plunging neckline, an even lower back, and a slit up the thigh. Colored the deepest shade of emerald green to compliment the diamond and sapphire pendant lariat necklace around her long slender neck, Ymir paired the dress with a delicate set of strappy black heels and a simple up-do that had her long brown hair pulled into a "messy" braided bun.

Catching sight of the two at work while looking effortlessly beautiful, Jean paused on his walk over to the soundboard to snap a picture of the siblings. At the last moment, the Bott's saw him lift his camera and, as if to purposefully undo their physical elegance, threw up hand signs and stuck out their tongues. Laughing, the blonde pressed down on the shutter button and snapped a series of six images as they changed poses facial expressions. Dressed similarly to Marco except in an Armani suit rather than a Boss and onyx stud cuff links rather than platinum, the photographer was just as handsome as his future spouse yet still felt awkward when the man looked at him with deep-seated adoration.

Trying to ignore the things Marco's heated gaze did to him, Jean approached the DJ stand and wrapped an arm around his fiance's waist. Tilting his head up just a fraction of an inch, his lips were instantly met by the brunettes as they eagerly sought out his lovers' touch. Holding onto one another for a long moment, the kiss was everything he needed and left him craving more when they parted.

"Hey handsome," Marco winked. Even now that they were a sealed deal, the man still flirted with his partner as if they were in the initial stages of dating. "You're looking positively ravishing tonight."

"I could say the same for you," Jean smirked back as he shamelessly eyed his man up and down. "I'm almost tempted to skip the banquet."

"God, I did not want to hear any of that," Ymir scowled, looking as if she could hurl at any given moment. "It's enough that I have to see your bite marks all over each other every day. Can't you keep it in your pants for single moment?"

"Sorry," her brother said though not sounding in the least bit apologetic. "I'll keep that in mind when we sneak off to the coat room later tonight."

At that, the woman's feline eyes narrowed as a warning. "Don't you even fucking dare."

"I'm just kidding moa," Marco assured. 

Giving Marco's hip a gentle squeeze before tugging him in closer, Jean flashed a cat-like grin. "He's right. I much prefer the beach."

"Okay, that's it. Both of you beat it before I kick your asses to shit. I've got a lot of work to do before I can relax and your nauseating display of PDA is putting me off my game."

Laughing as she shooed them away, the two men hooked their arms around one another and sank into the comfortable warmth that hummed between them. It was so easy being together in public now that they were out and open about their relationship. It was a first for both of them yet neither shied away from the intensity of their mutual affection. Instead, they seemed to relish it and bask in the glow which had grown since they had announced their engagement to the newsroom.

Joining their hands together, Marco and Jean sat down at the table for both the outgoing and incoming EIC, photo editors, managing editors, station managers, and program directors. Nestling into the brunettes' side with his head resting on the mans' shoulder, the photographer watched as more people filled the massive party space. Some he knew, some he didn't. Their department was so large that it was almost impossible to know everyone in it. Yet still, everybody seemed to know Marco as the majority of arrivals came by at some point to congratulate him on a job well done and for his impending graduation. A few even mentioned his engagement but it only came from people in his close ring of friends and a few people in the department who were fans of his radio show--on which he had mentioned he was getting married at the end of the year.

At the entrance, Jean spotted the three girls from the newsroom everyone called the "rumor-mill on legs" chatting amongst themselves in between pointed glares to him. Catching the gesture from the women, Marco snorted a short laugh then pulled his fiance into a long, deep, passionate kiss that was more possessive than usual. Melting into his touch immediately, the blonde knew exactly what his lover was doing and played along because it didn't matter what those three thought anymore. Marco was his and his alone and if he had to claim him in public, then that's what he'd do. Parting just enough to take in air and place little kisses on each other, they smiled fiendishly when they heard the women at the entrance groan out of frustration and snicker about how gross they were. Yet, their focus quickly shifted when another couple arrived.

Dressed to kill and with merciless appeal, Levi and Eren stepped onto the terrace. Side by side, the advisor wore a cool comfortable expression with his arm around the young mans' waist while his date had one hand in his pant pocket and the other hanging loosely between them. Eyeing the pair, Jean went wide-eyed while Marco mumbled something about owing Ymir twenty bucks. It was almost too much of a shock for some people who stood there in suspended silence while others quickly began whispering amongst themselves. A professor showing up with a student in that kind of intimate fashion was more interesting than two students getting hitched because it was taboo.

There had been teacher-student issues in the past in other departments but no one ever thought it would be a thing in the Media Arts group. Everyone was too busy staying on schedule to bother with dating. Those who did have relationships usually dated a fellow reporter or photographer since they shared the same hardships and understood one another. But no one thought a professor--least of all Levi--would go for a student. He was just too cool and unreachable in his perfection and skills to be hampered down by just anyone. Or at least, that's what everyone had believed.

Enjoying the reactions from his students, peers, and the committee members that were sitting at their table by the edge of the terrace, Levi tightened his grip on Eren. He had wanted to show the kid off for so long and now he had the chance to do so. Peeking at the brunette out of the corner of his eye, he drank in how gorgeous he was. Sometimes, the older man found himself getting lost in the glow of the boys' golden skin, the sparkle of those haunting green eyes, and the fine angles of his perfectly framed face. Eren truly was one of God's masterpieces; devastating in his allure and armed with a wicked little personality that had him guessing every time the young man opened his mouth. How could Levi not love him when the kid was everything he had dreamt of and more?

Sitting down at the editors table with nonchalance, a smug smirk cracked the advisors facade when he saw how speechless his friend was. Marco was not one to be fooled easily. With his freakishly precise intuition, he could usually predict what the people closest to him were up to. But apparently his gut had been wrong this time.

"If you keep staring at us like that, your eyes will fall out," Eren said; beating Levi to the punch.

"You two look happy," Jean observed before flashing Eren a teasing glance as he took note of his friends kiss-swollen lips. "I take it things are going well."

"At least we have restraint enough to keep our marks below the collar."

Shrugging as he was well aware of the hickey just below his ear, Jean smiled. "I never said we did."

"Anyways," Levi broke into the conversation, blushing just a bit from what was being insinuated. "Marco, have you heard back from Jodie about the arrangements for the Aussie Open? Last time, they had us holed up in that weird hotel that was a twenty minute drive from the beach. They don't have you booked there again do they?"

"No, they're allowing us to find our own accommodations this time if we want so Ymir, Krista, Jean, and I are staying at the beach house."

"You guys have a beach house in Australia?" Eren gawked; his brows furrowing in disbelief.

"My parents do for work but they let Ymir and I use it whenever we want."

"Fucking hell dude."

"It's not that big of a deal," Marco chuckled, obviously not catching the drift. "But yeah, we're staying at the Melbourne house so it shouldn't be too bad. It's just going to be annoying because I won't have security from the press like I would if we stayed at a hotel."

"Do the paparazzi even know where the house is?" Levi asked. Pausing to order him and Eren a drink, the advisor turned back to his friend. "I'm sure you could talk to event organizers and work something out if it's that bad. If it's a hindrance to your safety then they have no choice but to provide protection."

Shrugging, the older brunette just sighed. "You'd think that'd be the case but I'm not holding my breath."

"Sorry, but why does Marco need a security detail on him?" Eren interjected.

"Because he's one of the bigger names in the surfing community right now and won the Australian Open four times which makes him the guy to beat," Ymir chimed as she approached the table with Krista--who was adorned in a sheer embellished black gown--at her side. "Between Marco and I, we hold fifteen world titles and twenty-seven domestic trophies. He can't so much as spit on a beach without someone taking a picture of him."

"It's not that bad," her brother countered. "However, without Levi there glaring at anyone that comes close, I'm worried that we may get trampled."

"Wait, what do you mean?" the young photo editor asked.

Smirking, Ymir sank into her seat wondering if she should tell him or let the kid figure it out on his own. "Levi's not just a hot piece of tail with crazy camera skills you know," she said, deciding to take mercy on him. "He's won the Triple Crown twice and the Aussie open three times. He used to be the hotshot until Marco stole his thunder a while back."

"Seriously?" Eren said. Whipping around to look at his partner, he frowned with a raised brow. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it's not that big of a deal," Levi shifted uncomfortably under the sudden intensity of his lovers' gaze. "It's just something I like doing."

"Right," the young brunette rolled his eyes. "'Just something you like doing.' Well I guess it explains your board collection and why you have so much gear. But why aren't you entering this time? I take it you were given an invitation."

"I did receive an invitation but I declined because I'll be in New York with you visiting your father," the advisor said easily after he thanked the waiter for his drink. Taking a sip, he then continued. "Or would you rather me not go?"

"No, I want you to come. I just didn't know that they were happening at the same time."

With a short laugh, Levi leaned in and kissed Eren fondly on the cheek. "Good."

As Eren opened his mouth to speak, Shadis announced that the banquet would be starting in ten minutes and that everyone needed to take their seats. With a small frown, Levi sighed knowing that it was time for him to go to the faculty table. He didn't want to leave Eren's side. He was enjoying the simple bliss of being able to sit beside him with their hands joined together in public. It wasn't something the man had taken joy in before because there was something missing from his ex's; that being that they weren't Eren. The kid had some strange magic in him that just worked wonders on his tired heart and made him feel new again. So the idea of leaving--parting from him even if for a minute was enough to put a scowl on the older mans' face.

Bringing the back of the young mans' hand to his lips, Levi kissed it before kissing his lips longingly as if asking his partner to try to keep him at his table. When they parted, he rose and said he'd see him after the awards portion which always took place after dinner. Even though they would only be fifty feet apart, it was still too much space. What was only a couple feet felt like an ocean and the thought of being stuck at a table with professors, who were likely judging him right now, was agonizing. But they had to be adults about this.

With one more kiss, Levi whispered, "See you later kid. Love you."

"I love you too, hun," Eren beamed softly as the last word slipped past his defenses.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

As everyone was busy finishing their entree's and the wait staff was prepping the large oval trays of various desserts that would be served to each individual table--family style--the department professors migrated to the front of the terrace. It was time to start the awards portion of the evening and they only had forty-five minutes to get through thirty-two awards plus second and third place for each category and the honorable mentions as well; this also didn't account for the four special awards and three scholarships that were given at the end of the segment.

First to rattle off their allotted set of ten awards was Petra, the sweet strawberry blonde that was rocking her post-baby bump in a knockout blue gown with an empire waistline and silver heels. Marco had been right when he said Jean would have liked the petite woman as a professor. Despite being out for most of the semester, she still managed to stay in the loop and dished out loving jabs at the recipients of the awards she had been charged with. Many of the students were people who had taken all their journalism courses with her until spring this year when Levi stepped in as substitute. And though she didn't personally know Jean, she knew of him and well enough to comment on his abilities when she issued his first place plaque for excellence in sports writing.

"It figures that this one would go to a photographer since most of the one's I know are all about the details," she joked though with a tinge of honesty peppering her tone. "First Place for sports writing goes to Jean Kirstein for his story, 'Kicking It With The Gaucho's.'"

With a playful slap on the back from Eren, a woot from Connie and Sasha, and a quick kiss from Marco, the young man got up and accepted his plaque with a faint blush on his cheeks. Little did he know that the rosy hue would be there for the majority of the night as he was given award after award for his work. By the time Levi had made it up to the podium, he laughed when Eren, Mohammad, and Jean all tied for first place in the wild art category.

"Well I guess that means it's no longer the Kirstein Show," he chuckled before shaking hands with all three photographers; his hand lingering a fraction of a second longer on Eren's.

By the time the standard thirty-two awards had been given along with the second and third certificates and the honorable mentions, Eren and his friend were tied for top marks with seven first place plaques, and differing yet equal numbers for the rest. Taylor came in second while Mohammad and Samantha played a close third. Now it was all down to the final four special awards and these were really what the ceremony was all about. Showcasing the four main types of photography--street, news, landscape, and portrait--the winning pictures were not only displayed around the university campus, but they were also featured in the local newspapers. It was a chance to establish yourself while getting a grade for the assignment which was an added plus.

As to be expected, Jean won the street selection for his picture of the two fishermen descaling fish at the wharf. He had taken the shot at the start of the semester, around week two, and liked it enough to hold onto it. He never would have guessed that such a spontaneous photo would earn him top marks. Taylor cleaned house with her breathtaking landscape shot of the Santa Ynez mountains covered in a rolling blanket of fog at dawn. Following her was Mohammad with a stunning action shot of two swimmers side by side competing in the 100 meter butterfly. The dramatic spray of the water and how it formed translucent wings when the athletes lifted their arms was mesmerizing; it wasn't any wonder why his photo had been selected. Yet it was the final of the four that had everyone stunned speechless. And as chance would have it, Levi was the one to announce the winner.

"And the award for Mastery of Portraiture goes to Eren Jaeger," the advisor beamed though still exercised some self-restraint. However, his brows furrowed slightly in confusion when he read the title of the piece--having never seen the image before. "The honor being given for his portrait, 'Caught In The Rain.'"

The moment Levi had spoken the words, the portrait appeared on the screen. There was an audible gasp with a harsher one sounding from the photo editor after realizing that this particular photograph had been mistaken for the one he actually wanted to submit. On display for all to see was an immaculate portrait of Levi standing in the rain under a street lamp--his gaze turned to the sky with a candid, warm smile gracing his face and both eyes closed. It was stunning, ethereal, and steeped in a simple kind of joy that could only be experienced in the rain.

Staring at the picture of himself, the dark-haired man didn't know how to react. Part of him was embarrassed since he was the subject yet did not know about it until that very moment. Another part of him--the stronger, better half--was impressed beyond words. Apparently, all his nagging had paid off because this portrait was without flaw. Everything was balanced, the whites were contrasting the darker shadows and black asphalt perfectly, and all the key points were in focus. It was a simple shot but those were usually the ones that his students messed up the most. They always wanted to do something clever or play with the color saturation. But this was just raw, straightforward, and elegant in its minimalism.

It was on closer inspection that the advisor suddenly realized when this shot had been taken. That street lamp and crosswalk were the same ones present at the site where Eren had almost been hit during the on-spot competition during JACCU. This must have been why he went missing after they retreated to the buses and why he was walking out of the cafe; he was probably checking his gear to see if he had gotten the shot and that his camera hadn't been damaged by the downpour.

As Eren sheepishly made his way up to the front to collect his award, the kid avoided his lovers' gaze. It was hard enough that, before this, the entire department was now well aware of their relationship. However, after this, there was an added layer to it. The consideration and clear focus that centered entirely on Levi made it obvious that what they had wasn't just a casual fling. There was love in that picture; devotion, admiration, and adoration. Somehow Eren had taken something as mundane as standing in the rain and made it into an otherworldly experience that brought the viewers in until they were immersed in that moment that was forever frozen in time.

Their fingers brushed and words were exchanged as Levi gave the photographer his award. He still couldn't bring himself to believe that that was him on screen. His heart fluttered wildly in his chest and his stomach flipped; an unfamiliar sensation for the man. Tugging at his tie, the advisor excused himself as the festivities resumed. Levi needed air like a fish needed water and the terrace was getting too stuffy for his liking.

\---------------------------------------------------

Stepping onto the beach, caring nothing of his nice dress shoes digging into the sand, Levi stared out across the ocean while his lungs drew in steadying breaths. He knew Eren loved him and had a feeling of how serious it was but, for him, that picture was a stronger punch than when the kid had sobbed the words "I love you." For Levi, who was a creature of imagery, that picture said all the words that had gone unspoken. It told him of how long Eren had loved him, how long he had been watching him, and how deeply the young man admired him. 

Swallowing hard on the emotions that were starting to well up in the back of his throat, the advisor felt his heart quicken as the memory of the portrait surfaced in his waking mind. 'How could I have been so blind?' Levi sighed heavily, cursing his own ignorance. He was grateful for the isolation in that moment because, at long last, the tears had their victory and began streaking down his cheeks. Yet, the tranquil peace and solitude was broken when the man caught the familiar scent of summer musk and citrus floating on the breeze.

"Levi?" Eren called from behind him. Shoving one hand in his pocket while the other anxiously rubbed the nape of his neck, the young man slowly approached his lover. "Hey, can we talk about the picture? Look, I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. It was three in the morning and I thought I had sent in a different one when I mixed up the file number."

The closer the photographer got, the longer the silence dragged on. When it was clear that Levi wasn't going to answer, Eren stopped in place and kicked at the sand. Inside he was screaming; completely and utterly terrified that he had screwed up big time and had humiliated his partner. Just because he may have liked the photo didn't mean Levi did. For all he knew, the older man could have hated it; found something wrong with the lighting or the black-white balance which he always seemed to struggle with. But whatever the cause was for his lovers' silence was, what Eren did know was that it would be unwise to push Levi for a response. So he stood there quietly as the cool ocean breeze blew between them--waiting for something to be said.

"I never knew," Levi muttered, breaking the silence. "I never knew what you really thought of me even though you've told me dozens of times. I always thought I was the only one feeling this way but," he paused before he could choke on his words. "I guess I wasn't alone after all."

"Levi...?"

"Is that how you really see me, Eren?"

Turning around half way, Levi gave the boy a weak smile as glittering tears ran down his face. It was such a beautiful, delicate expression. The raw emotion pouring out from his gaze washed over the brunette with brutal force, like a tidal wave meeting land. Eren couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He just stood there frozen in place by those devastating eyes that called to him. Watching a tear roll over Levi's flushed cheek, the young man found his body being willed into motion.

Closing the short distance between them, Eren collected Levi into a deep all-encompassing kiss that had their hearts racing at full force within seconds. The spark that had been simmering all night erupted into a raging fire as their mouths greeted one another in a needy embrace that was too hot, too raw for them to explain. It was like they were confessing to each other for the first time yet so much more intense. 

Raking his hands through Levi's silken black hair, Eren breathed him in. He loved this man more than any picture or arrangement of words could convey. He loved how their fingers had already memorized each others' form, how their lips fit together perfectly, and how their noses brushed whenever Levi changed the angle of the kiss. He loved how the older man only showed this side of himself to Eren, how deep their trust ran, and how confident they were in their abilities to keep each other's secrets private. Eren loved how their relationship wasn't some quick development that could crumble and fail; that it was built on a foundation that took four years to establish. Those long hours spent together in the newsroom, the afternoons they shared shooting wild art, and their trips to the beach and mountains for meditation when Eren looked as if he were about to fall apart... All of it was so clear in his mind and sang in his heart.

"I love you so much Levi," Eren breathed as he parted just enough that their noses bumped. "But even that sounds cheap. I can't...there aren't enough ways for me to show it or words that could properly tell you how I see you. You make me feel like I'm drowning on dry land every time you look at me or say my name," the young man proclaimed with shaky breathes. Pulling his partner in for another long tender kiss, he then pressed their foreheads together while his trembling hands framed his lovers' face. "Everyday I wake up next to you is like a dream. Sometimes I still can't believe you picked me. It's unreal; like some freak miracle."

For a moment, Levi was silent as the kid spilled his inner most secrets to him. The words that battered over him were heavy yet--at the same time--as light as a feather because the love in them lifted him up until he couldn't feel anything except Eren's warm embrace and his heart hammering in his chest. This was real love; something he had never experienced or thought he would earn from the young man. This was devotion. This was trust and mutual admiration. This was them.

"Eren," the older man said as the name caught in his throat. "I can't take this. I feel like I'm about to fall apart."

"Then fall apart," Eren laughed as small tears began to paint his face. "I promise to put you back together again, just like you promised me. It's okay Levi. I'm here so you can let go."

A cry cracked past his lips as he stumbled forward into his lovers' open embrace.

"I love you so much. So much more than I can tell you. I just, I didn't know that you felt that way too," Levi said as he nuzzled into the curve of Eren's neck and shoulder. Taking a deep stabilizing breath, he tightened his grip around the kid. "You're the one; my only one and I'm so scared of someone stealing you away. Since JACCU, you're all I think about. I can't close my eyes anymore without seeing you. I love you so much but when the board called me up for reevaluation, I was terrified that something would happen to you; that they'd send you away to another school. Even now, the thought of losing you because of my selfishness... It's been like living with a bag of lead weights pulling me down. There were so many times I wanted to reach out and touch you, to just kiss you or comb my hand through your hair while you were working at your desk but I couldn't. I had to hold it all back and every day it started hurting more and more," Levi gasped as the air in his lungs finally gave out. "But you're still the one," he whispered softly.

"I'm not going anywhere Levi because you're the one for me too. I promise."

"Really?"

Smiling at how young and insecure Levi now seemed standing there in his arms, Eren nodded. "Really. I already told you, I've waited four years for you to turn around and look at me. There's no way I'm letting go of you now that I have you. You're mine Levi Ackerman," the brunette said before placing a gentle kiss on his partners' salty lips. "No one else can have you, ever."

"Then no one else can have you," Levi asserted between kisses to the young mans' lips, chin, Adam's apple, and the hollow of his throat. "I won't let anyone take you from me. You're mine to keep."

Sighing into the butterfly soft pecks along his hot skin, Eren nodded. "Always." Shuddering when he felt Levi bite at the skin of his neck, he pulled the older man closer. "Would it be rude if we ditched the rest of the party and went home early?"

"Not really. Why?"

"Because I want you so bad and I don't think I can last another hour."

Pulling away to appraise the heated expression bubbling to the surface of his lovers' face, Levi gave a short airy laugh. "I have a better idea."

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Pushing through the door of the main entrance, Levi pulled Eren into the secluded suite that would act as their safe-haven for the night. It was by pure chance that the Ortega bungalow would be available that night, especially since it was a favorite amongst honeymooners and traveling couples. Isolated in the jungle-esque gardens of the Biltmore, it was far removed from everything and everyone. And here, in this perfect little world, Eren and Levi could spend the night relentlessly etching the markings of their love onto each other.

Levi couldn't remember the last time he had ever been this excited to be with someone. Nothing could compare; even the night they had first made love almost paled in comparison to this. Locking lips, the man pulled his lover into a burning embrace. Eren's hands knotted in his dark hair and tugged as Levi pressed him up against the wall. The friction of their hardening members rubbing together acted like a drug that numbed them to their surroundings.

"Levi," Eren rasped, his voice thick with desire and his eyes aflame with untamed lust. "Fuck, you're so perfect. I want you so bad baby."

Yanking the silk tie free from around that flawless golden neck, the older man moved his lips back up to kiss Eren's as his fingers undid the buttons of his blouse. He was ravenous like a beast left out to starve only to find an oasis in the middle of a barren wasteland. Levi drank in every little whimper, gasp, and moan his beautiful lover made. His hands groped and smoothed over his perfect bronzed body and his eyes took in the sight like he was seeing God face to face.

"You're beautiful," Levi whispered, kissing from the boys' neck then down to his clavicle, chest, the warm skin over his heart and down to his navel. "I love you Eren. I love you so much more than I can say. You're fucking amazing."

The brunette shivered as the words were spoken in heated breaths against his skin. He could feel himself getting harder with each passing second. Eren had never been this swept up, even when they made love for the first time. This was different. This time, they weren't doing something taboo. This time there wasn't any shame, fear, or anxiety. Now they were just Levi and Eren; two hopeless fools in love.

Gasping as his partners hands unzipped his pants and tugged them down, Eren worked a hand through Levi's soft hair as he felt a pair of lips tease the head of his stiff erection. As he tried to remember how to breath, small little kisses and bites landed on the skin of his thighs, stomach, and pelvis. He choked on a moan as Levi's left hand smoothed up his leg and massaged his firm backside while the other slowly pumped his length. It was torture. Sheer, blissful torture that had him unraveling in no time.

"Baby," the brunette whined as the tip of his cock was enveloped by the warm heat of his lovers' mouth. "Not here. Please, take me to the bed and fuck me slow and deep."

Groaning at his request, Levi smoothly slid off of Eren's length; swallowing the pre-cum that had already began to flow. Standing, he took the kid by the hand and led him to the bedroom. Opening the door, he was surprised when Eren spun him around and locked mouths with him. Tangled up in the frenzy of their embrace, the older man secured an arm around his partners' waist as they fell backwards onto the mattress. It was a shame that they were about to make a horrible mess of the room since the staff had put so much work into doing it up all prettily.

Kicking their shoes off with joined laughter, the two men kissed between brief pauses to pull back and admire one another. It felt so right being together like this. Age, status, school politics, societal norms... None of it existed right now. All that Levi could see were those enchanting golden green eyes gazing back at him with everlasting adoration. He was it. This boy that he had watched grow into a handsome and wildly talented man was the answer for everything, the reason for living, and for giving love a second chance. He was his world.

"I love you Eren," Levi breathed as he smoothed the feathery strands of chestnut hair away from the young mans' lovely face. "Can I keep you?"

Fighting back tears, Eren nodded with a bright smile. "Yeah. I love you too Levi. Always."

"Always," the man smiled in that heartbreaking manner that took Eren's breath away.

"Hey Levi..."

"Yeah?"

"You're beautiful," the brunette cooed as he kissed his partner tenderly on the lips. "You're beautiful, strong, crazy smart, talented, and funny," he said while trailing kisses down the other mans' chest as he popped open the buttons of his partners' shirt. "You know how to cook, you're amazing in bed, you can surf, and you've got a heart of gold on top of it all. Seriously, what ring of heaven did you fall from?"

"Oh my God Eren, did you really just use that pick-up line?" Levi chuckled as he arched a brow, watching the kid who was now resting his chin on his stomach. "I'm not all that."

"But you are. You may not see it but I do. You're so wonderful I almost can't believe you're human."

Rolling his eyes, the older man snorted a laugh. "Well if I'm from heaven then what does that make you? There's no way you'd be from the same universe as me. You're too perfect."

"Then I guess that makes me an alien from another galaxy," Eren laughed as he pulled Levi's pants off then shed his own blazer and shirt. Straddling him, the young man pushed his lovers' shirt open so that he could see all of that flawless alabaster skin. Eyeing him up and down, Eren bit his lip with anticipation. "Or maybe you're the one from another universe. Do you have any idea how hot you are? I can't even handle it right now. Seriously, I could cum just from looking at you."

"Well I'll have to stop you from staring for too long then," Levi sat up to capture the kids lips while hooking one arm around his neck. Rolling his tongue over his partners, he groaned as Eren's hot hands teased his blazer and shirt off his shoulders, down his forearms and, sleeve by sleeve, off his arms. "Smooth move kid," he smirked with a playful nip to the boys' bottom lip.

"Thanks, hun," the brunette shot back with a teasing wag of his brow.

Now equally bare with nothing separating them from each other, the two slowed their pace to appreciate the moment. Righting himself so that Eren was sitting in his lap, Levi took in a quiet breath as he placed both hands on either side of the boys' face. Committing every little detail to memory, a smile stretched across his face. It wasn't the same as before or anywhere as playful. This one was full of devotion and awe. It were as though he was kneeling before heaven's throne in worship. He was so in love with this man, he couldn't contain it. In some ways, it was like the emotions were too big to fit inside his heart. Leaking out, they seeped into his skin, penetrated his organs, and fused with his bones.

Mirroring his partners' actions, Eren held Levi's face in his hands; studying it with the same level of scrutiny and adoration. This man, who could have anyone had chosen him; had promised to love him forever and to hold onto him. It was a wild, unbelievable profession of love but was real. He could see it in those piercing eyes that were like the horizon before a storm. Moving his hands down to clasp behind Levi's neck--the fingers of his left hand toying with the now slightly damp hair at the back of his head--Eren gasped quietly as his lovers' hands glided over the curve of his spine before taking hold of his backside.

Rolling his head back as a finger slowly pushed inside him while Levi's lips teased the skin of his chest, the brunette moaned his partners' name while moving his hips in tandem with the thrusting digit. Bucking forward as a second one slipped inside, Eren's back arched giving the older man a better angle to work with. They had never made love in this position mainly because Levi wasn't sure if his young lover could handle how deep the penetration would be. But they were accustomed with each others' bodies now and knew what the other could and couldn't take so now was a good chance to shake things up.

"Fuck, Levi," Eren moaned with his head craned all the way back as he was stretched open bit by bit. "You feel so good inside me. Fuck, how are you so good baby?"

"Keep moaning like that Eren," Levi said with a slight growl as he pulled his fingers out then pressed three inside--loving the way it made Eren wail in complete pleasure as he hit his prostate. "I love the sound of your voice. It's so beautiful when you cry out like that."

"Levi, I can't...you're hitting that...." the young man choked. "I'm going to cum. L-Levi, stop. I don't want to cum yet."

"What do you want, babe?" Levi asked, stopping his hand immediately though keeping it pressed firmly against the boys sweet spot. "Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you."

"You," Eren hiccuped as his body tensed and relaxed then tightened again as the fingers pushing against his prostate rubbed it gently. "I want you inside me."

"I already am inside you, Eren."

Shuddering, Eren opened his eyes and stared Levi down; their foreheads pressing and lips brushing. "I want your cock in me Levi. Don't make me wait anymore."

Biting the boys' lip as he slid his fingers out, the dark-haired man kissed him deep; his teeth grazing his partners' tongue as they parted for air. "Alright, if that's what you want."

Without warning, Levi pushed up into Eren's tight heat until he was buried to the hilt. Crying out from the overwhelming relief and euphoria, Eren clawed at his partners' back while his lungs struggled for air. He could feel every inch of Levi's hot stiff length inside him and how his body instinctively twitched around it. The young man knew he wasn't going to last long. Not with it being that deep inside. Taking a moment to catch his breath, Eren brought his partner in for a slow hot kiss that was all tongue. He loved how Levi tasted in his mouth; sweet like candy but cool like peppermint. He loved how his scent--a mixture of sandalwood and cool ocean water--intensified during sex. It was so intoxicating the way it swirled around him like a veil. But what Eren loved most was the way his eyes watched him closely as if they were trying to memorize every moment passing between them.

"Levi," Eren whispered against the mans' lips as sweat beaded on his skin like morning dew. "M-Move. Please, Levi, move."

"Eren..."

Kissing the young man as he began to slowly thrust into him, Levi kept one arm around the kids' waist while the other cupped his face. Building a steady rhythm with Eren circling his hips down and Levi grinding up, they soon began to fall apart in each others' embrace. It was so hot and hideously romantic how they cried out for one another as if this were their last night alive. Each thrust was like beautiful agony for Eren because he didn't want to cum that soon. Yet Levi kept hitting his prostate with lethal precision. With a yelp as his partner pushed particularly deep, Eren came; spilling onto their stomachs. But before Levi could stop, the young man clamped down with a worried groan.

"No, don't pull out," he huffed; face flushed and body shivering.

"But you just--"

"I know but I want you to cum. I want you to lose yourself while inside me."

"Are you sure?" Levi asked, his eyes gentle and questioning.

Nodding, Eren leaned down and kissed him sweetly. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Fuck, I love you Eren," he said, tightening his grasped around the young man.

Thrusting up into the tight muscle, Levi moaned as Eren continued peppering his fair skin with love bites and kisses. As the intensity of the pace grew, the brunette felt a second climax building. This time, he wanted them to cum together. So contracting his muscles every time Levi would sink himself inside, Eren circled his hips and clawed at the back of his partners' shoulders and head. Shivering as the older man gripped his thighs and left hip, the brunette craned his head back as he gave into the heavenly feeling of being filled over and over again. He was spiraling into his second orgasm when he heard Levi whimper. Rolling his head to the side, Eren took the mans' face in his hands and kissed him as they got closer to their finish.

"Eren," Levi rasped in that deep velvety tone that drove the brunette wild. "Babe, I'm going to cum. Fuck, I wanna cum."

"Do it Levi," Eren exhaled as he felt them reach their peak. "Cum with me. Ah! Levi!"

"Eren!"

Pulling each other close after one last punishing thrust, Eren cried with his head back as his second climax shook through him. Latching tightly onto the young man, Levi buried his face in the crook of the kids' neck as he came harder than he ever had in his life. They lingered like that, holding onto one another while fighting to breath and stay conscious. It was like they had just died and floated into the afterlife where there was no pain, just pleasure and the steady rapid beat of each other's heart.

Sliding out of the brunette, Levi kept them sitting just the way they had been with his face hidden in his lovers' shoulder like a scared child. Breathing in the smell of his gleaming golden skin, the dark-haired man waited for his lungs to calm down enough so that his brain and mouth could being working again. There had been something weighting on his mind and now, in this moment, he finally found enough courage to say the words; to ask the question he had been contemplating all week.

"Eren...?"

"Yeah?" the brunette rasped with his cheek resting atop Levi's head and both eyes closed.

"After we get back from New York, would you move in with me?" Levi asked feeling as shy as a teenage boy asking his crush to homecoming. "I'm tired of waking up without you there. I want to see you all the time and be there for every moment."

"Really?" Eren said with tears welling up behind his bright green eyes. When his partner nodded silently, the kid nuzzled his nose in his dark hair; a smile slowly working across his face. "You know I can be a bit of a jackass sometimes when I'm focused on work. I'll probably forget to do the dishes and laundry. You sure you can handle that?"

"I don't care. I want you with me, always."

Laughing, the young man gently stroked his hand through his lovers' hair and kissed his ear. "Okay. I'll move in when we get back."

Beyond words, Levi sniffled as he closed his eyes with a trembling sigh. "Thank you Eren."

"What for?"

"For loving me. For being so accommodating and understanding. Take your pick."

"Don't mention it," Eren smiled as he held his lover close. "I love you Levi."

Peeling away just enough that he could gaze into those eyes he adored so dearly, Levi smirked as he moved the hair from Eren's face. "I love you Eren."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like most people, Levi has a playlist specifically set aside for when he's getting ready for an important evening--such as a work function or a big date. And like all things Levi, he keeps it classy with a bit of oddity thrown in there. So here, from me to you, is the Ackerman Black Tie list.
> 
>  
> 
> *Suit and Tie List*
> 
> -"Hotwire The Ferris Wheel" by Jens Lekman  
> -"What's The Perfume You Wear?" by Jens Lekman  
> -"How We Met, The Long Version" by Jens Lekman  
> -"Remember The Time" by Michael Jackson  
> -"You Rock My World" by Michael Jackson  
> -"Clothes Off!" by Gym Class Heroes  
> -"I Like The Way You Move" by Outkast feat. Sleepy Brown  
> -"A Little Party Never Killed Nobody (All We Got)" by Fergie, Q-Tip & GoonRock  
> -"Love Is The Drug" by Bryan Ferry & The Bryan Ferry Orchestra  
> -"Crazy In Love (Kid Koala Version)" by Emeli Sande & The Bryan Ferry Orchestra  
> -"Where The Wind Blows" by Coco O.  
> -"Bang Bang" by will.i.am  
> -"Back To Black" by Beyonce & Andre 3000  
> -"Hearts A Mess" by Gotye **(Eren's Song)  
> -"Torrents Of Spring" by Tropics  
> -"Angel Eyes" by Frank Sinatra  
> -"Fly Me To The Moon" by Frank Sinatra  
> -"Golden Years" by David Bowie  
> -"Cat People (Putting Out Fire)" by David Bowie  
> -"My Moon My Man" by Feist  
> -"Earned It" The Weeknd  
> -"The Party & The After Party" by The Weeknd  
> -"On The Swings" by Sarah Cracknell  
> -"Feeling Good" by The Quantic Soul Orchestra feat. Alice Russell  
> -"Crazy (James Michael Mix)" by Alanis Morrisette  
> -"Female Of The Species" by Space **(Eren's Song)  
> -"Locked Out Of Heaven" by Bruno Mars  
> -"Uptown Funk" by Mark Ronson feat. Bruno Mars  
> -"Get Lucky" by Daft Punk feat. Pharrell Williams Nile Rodgers  
> -"Fallin'" by Alicia Keyes  
> -"Venus As A Boy" by Bjork **(Eren's Song)  
> -"The World Outside" by The Devlins


	18. Your Hot Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Marco leave for the Aussie Open, Jean makes two very important calls, Marco can't catch a break from the prying eyes of the press, and the young couple gets to spend some time together before the competition begins...
> 
>  
> 
> AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so this chapter is centered around Jean and Marco so there won't be much of the other characters in this installment. Also, I would like to add that the REAL Australian Open for Surfing with the WSA takes place in February in Sydney. This one is a fabrication stemmed from that competition and the famous Rip Curl Pro championship that happens every year in the spring at the notorious Bells Beach. So yeah, cheers!

It was a particularly humid morning; which was apparently strange for California in June. Forcing his eyes open as the alarm blared in his ear from its perch on the nightstand like the obnoxious albatross it was, Jean groaned long and deep with a smattering of agitation as he reached for his phone. Sprawled out on the bed, half of the blankets had been kicked off during the evening but it didn't do him any good since Marco had partially rolled onto him. The guy was adorable and Jean hated waking him up when he was sleeping so soundly. Unfortunately though, they had a flight to catch.

"Babe," the photographer huffed against the weight of his fiance as he attempted to sit up. "Come on Marco, we got to get up."

"No," Marco whined as he buried his face in Jeans' chest; effectively pining him to the bed once more. "I'm tired."

"I know baby but it's seven-thirty and the shuttle to LAX is going to be here in forty minutes. You can sleep on the plane."

"I don't want to."

Sighing, Jean pinched his lovers' nose shut until the man squirmed and sat up to get air. "Don't be a brat Marco. I'm just as tired as you. I'll make coffee while you rinse off and get dressed. 'Kay?"

"Fine. You know I hate it when you do that," Marco grumbled while rubbing his freckled nose.

"I know but sometimes it's the only way to get you to wake up," the blonde smirked and gave the red pinch mark a kiss. "Come on, up we go."

Hauling himself and Marco out of bed, Jean quickly straightened the blankets and pillows while the brunette moseyed over to the bathroom. A small yelp sounded as he stubbed his toe against one of the boxes that were filled with the photographers' things. They had slowly started moving the young mans' belongings into the beach house so that it wouldn't be such a hassle when they came back from Australia in two weeks. Most of the boxes were easy to unpack since they consisted primarily of clothing, shoes, photo albums, and the four sets of place settings and random drinking mugs. Jean's furniture would be stored in Marco's off-site storage locker where he kept his custom boards and extra gear and the dozens of trophies that took up way too much space--that and they were gaudy and a pain to look at. 

However, the trick would be keeping his lover blissfully ignorant to what was going to be happening while they were gone.

Marco had recently gotten into contact with his fathers' old friend, Chuck who worked in construction and asked if he could build a darkroom with an attached workspace onto the house. The brunette was going to make good on his promise he made a month ago when Jean was in the hospital and have a photo lounge made for him as an engagement gift. They had considered changing the spare bedroom into a darkroom but the blonde decided against it out of courtesy--or at least, that's what Marco suspected. But he knew his partner would love to have his own space to develop his photo's instead of having to shell out money for a job he could easily do. So Marco made the executive decision to add on to the house. Having already sent pictures of the area and the dimensions to Chuck, all that was left to do was to keep his lover in the dark until they got back.

Gently moving the box marked "Lenses" and the one next to it with "Film/Polaroids" written in bold black font, the tired brunette flicked on the bathroom lights and opened the window so the steam wouldn't fog up the room. With a long yawn, he turned the water on them disrobed as it warmed up. Stepping into the now hot stream that rained down on him, Marco sighed happily with his head drawn back and both eyes closed.

Working on the kink in his neck and shoulders from using Jean as a pillow for half of the evening, the man would have loved to take more time and enjoy the shower. Usually, he took anywhere from twenty to thirty minutes; it was one of his few real indulgences. But they had a shuttle coming in a half hour and delays weren't appreciated amongst the drivers. So, making quick business of washing his hair and body, Marco hopped out and brushed his teeth then shaved before getting dressed. 

Since they were going to be flying for close to twenty-four hours, he settled on a plain white scoop neck t-shirt, fresh black joggers, his favorite grey hoodie, an old trusty black moto leather jacket and a pair of navy blue low-tops. Lastly, Marco hooked his mirrored aviators around the neck of his shirt and shoved a merle grey beanie into his jacket pocket--to tame any hair mishaps that may happen while in flight. Checking his messenger bag one more time to make sure he had everything, the brunette left the bedroom without a second glance.

"I was just about to call you out," Jean said as he set down a plate of blueberry pancakes with wildberry jam and syrup on the side. "I already ate so I'm going to wash up and change while you eat. If the shuttle arrives while I'm still changing let him know I'll only be a minute," the blonde shouted as he walked down the hall.

"Yeah, I know," Marco shooed him away while taking a seat at the table. Opening up the newspaper to the business page first to check the stock, he flipped over to the sports section then frowned when he saw yet another article written about him. "Seriously, can't they find anything else to talk about?"

It seemed like anyone wanted to talk about anymore was Marco and his return to the world stage. The guy had only been gone for three years but apparently that was long enough to become a legend and the main source of gossip for magazines and news writers. Everything from speculation as to what he's been doing for the last couple years to what "really" happened that day at Maverick's was fair game. Some would think he'd be more forgiving since he himself was majoring in broadcast journalism. However, Marco had little patience for sensationalized news with only a fraction of a percentage of the story being true. 

Chewing on a slice of his pancakes, the brunette made a mental note to talk to Jodie about doing some damage control before they started publishing articles with Jean in them. It was only a matter of time until they did since they would be attending the event together. At least his fan base was pretty mellow and didn't cause him any grief. They were surfers just like he was except they chose to observe when it came to big wave riding rather than participate.

Fifteen minutes later, Jean emerged from bedroom--dressed and ready to go. He probably had the same idea as Marco when he was selecting his outfit because it mirrored his lover except for a few minor details. Instead of a leather jacket and a hoodie, the photographer paired his white shirt and black joggers with a cream and navy striped raglan pullover and a green cargo jacket with his own pair of aviators stuck in the pocket. Slipping on his favorite olive green Converse, Jean fixed his black frame glasses on his face while muttering something about getting the prescription renewed. Kissing Marco as he passed by on his way to the kitchen, the young man poured himself a second cup of coffee.

"Should we go over the list one more time just to make sure we packed everything?" Marco yawned again, still feeling tired from the rowdy evening the night before.

"I guess," the blonde shrugged. "I don't want to go through all the bags though."

"We won't."

"Fine. So your boards?"

"Already sent them to the house last week."

"Good," Jean said swirling the dark brew in his mug. "Wax, wetsuits, and compression gear?"

"Wetsuits went out with the boards. Compression gear and sex wax are in the large checked luggage with the boardshorts," Marco said pointing to the largest suitcase they were bringing. "What about you? Where's your Nikon and Canon?"

"The Nikon is in my backpack and the Canon EOS is in its case in my checked luggage with its lenses."

"And your laptop?"

"In with the Nikon."

"What about your heart med's?" Marco asked with a questioning brow arched up high.

"In my backpack with the Advil and your bottle of Concerta. Do you have your cell phone?" Jean countered, taking a sip from his cup.

"Yup. Charged at one-hundred percent and both our charging cables are in my bag. You have the tickets right?"

Nodding, the blonde waited a moment to swallow his coffee before answering. "Our tickets and our passports are in my backpack. By the way, I saw your photo and you look totally different in it."

"Yeah, I got to get it renewed. I got my passport when I was nineteen so I was shorter and lighter then."

"You also had longer hair. I never thought you'd be the kind of guy to rock a man bun," Jean teased then dodged the crumpled up napkin his lover tossed at him in protest. "You were so adorable back then."

"And awkward." Standing up, Marco grabbed the napkin sitting at his partners feet then, after dropping it in the trashcan, wrapped his arms around the blondes' waist. "If I had gone to the same high school or junior college as you, I wouldn't have had the nerve to talk to you."

"I don't believe you."

"It's true. I was only confident in the water and even that knocked me down a few pegs. Seriously, I couldn't flirt for shit back then."

Brushing his nose against the brunette's, Jean flashed a devilish smile with smoldering eyes. "You still can't flirt."

"Then how did I end up with you?"

"Because you let me yell at you."

"Right," Marco laughed, remembering that night on the beach when Jean had gone ballistic on him only to find out that Ymir was his sister and that he was very much single. "I still can't believe you thought Ymir and I were a thing. We look just like each other."

"Yeah, and so do pasty white blonde kids that date each other."

"Something tells me there's a story behind that statement," the brunette smirked.

"Just obnoxious trust fund kids I grew up with."

"Ah. Yeah, we didn't have any of those back on the North Shore."

"Nor would you want to."

Pulling his fiance in for what Jean had planned to be a long sensuous kiss, their embrace was cut short by the sound of a horn honking outside. Lingering for just a half second more with their lips pressed to each other, the two men groaned and then parted. They'd have plenty of time to indulge once they landed safely in Melbourne. But they had to get there first. Grabbing the first of their six bags, the two men made their way outside to meet the driver. After loading everything into the shuttle, Marco did one final walk-through to make sure all the windows are closed and the doors leading outside were locked. Then, flicking off the lights, he left.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

The traffic at LAX was as terrible as it was reputed to be. Somewhere between gratingly obnoxious and infuriating, it was any wonder how people didn't collapse into a full-blown meltdown. Motorists cut across three lanes then braked suddenly. Uber and Lyft drivers circled both the arrivals and departures areas which led to them monopolizing the drop-off and pick-up stops. Traffic enforcers didn't even try to stop them from parking in a no-parking zone. They just loitered around until some poor husband looking to pick his wife up drove by so they could yell at him for being in a loading-only area.

Breezing past the domestic gates, the shuttle circled around to the international departures then stopped in front of the British Airways gate. As the driver unloaded their luggage with Marco's help, Jean got a cart to pile them onto. There was no way in hell that they were stacking all of that even if two of the bags were duffles. It was just too heavy and they were still sore for the night before; well, at least Jean was in his lower back. 

After tipping the driver, they made their way inside--making a bee-line for the Fast Track security queue that was only available to people flying first class. Thanking Jean as the blonde handed over his passport and boarding pass, Marco nodded to the female TSA agent standing guard at the front of the exclusive lane. Waving them both through, they flew through the security check point since they had opted to wear sweats instead of jeans and belts. The only hold-up was when the guard on the other end of the scanner saw Jean's laptop in his carry-on. Asking him to turn it on and access the browser, the man nodded to the photographer when he was satisfied and allowed them through the final check-point.

With their checked luggage gone and just their carry-on's that they could roll and their personal bags in tow, the men swung by the First Class lounge for people flying with British Airways. Dropping off the two canvas roller duffles, they consigned to wandering about the airport shops for the next two hours. Nosing through the Louis Vuitton store, Jean impersonated his sister who was conveniently featured in the ten foot tall advertisement hanging over the cash registers. Sporting the seasons newest products, she worked wonders on getting young women to buy the purses and satchels she was clutching with a sultry gleam in her eyes. It was hard to believe that they were related because Charlotte was so vivacious and outgoing whereas Jean would rather die than be the center of anyone's attention. He still had trouble getting used to Marco's intense gaze and loving affection but the difference is was that he loved him so he could bear it. However, to do what Charlotte did and be the focus of everyone's attention--perfect strangers that didn't know her from Adam--was something only she could do.

Grabbing some of the same bags after politely asking the sales associate's permission, the young man tried to replicate the pose she was in. It was a little hard since they didn't have a giant sun hat, ivory sunglasses, and a pool to work with but Jean did his best as Marco snapped a few pictures with his partners' phone. As he took the shots, the brunette struggled not to blur the image from all the shaking going on because he was laughing so hard. Once they had one with both Jean and Charlotte in it, they sent it to his sister with a funny little messaged attached.

JEAN: Coming up this week on who wore it better... :p

CHARLOTTE: HA! That'd be me baby bro. Seriously, you need hips to work that pose.

JEAN: Never stopped me before.

CHARLOTTE: Ew, now I got it stuck in my head. Damn it Jean!

JEAN: Not my fault you've got a dirty mind.

CHARLOTTE: Yeah, yeah, whatever. Btw, how's the boy? I saw the picture of you guys at that wharf place. So fucking cute. Seriously, I wanted to throw up on my yoga ball. <3

Snorting a laugh, Jean told Marco to come close for a picture. Each lifting their left hand to show off their engagement rings, the blonde smiled while his fiance kissed his cheek. This was as good a time as any to clue in his sister. Part of Jean was surprised she didn't already know or that he hadn't thought to tell her. Attached to the photo was another quick message.

JEAN: Surprise! We're engaged! Don't kill me for not telling you sooner. Also, don't tell mom.

Hitting send, Jean waited a short moment before--as predicted--his sister's caller ID showed up as the phone vibrated from the incoming call. Knowing full well the reaction he as about to get, the blonde held the phone at an arms' length then tapped the Accept Call button. A fraction of a second later, there came an ear-piercing shriek as Charlotte screamed with excitement. It was the same reaction she gave at his junior college graduation and when he got accepted into UCSB. Hell, she always got overly excited whenever he did something she deemed noteworthy. At least it wasn't as bad as when they were little and she would squeal and squeeze him like a plushie all because he was making a "cute face."

"Hey Char," Jean chuckled into the receiver when she had finally calmed down. "I take it you approve."

"Oh I more than approve! I mean, it's a little quick but you guys are so fucking perfect together, it's literally gross sometimes. Like, I've kinda started facebook stalking you since you don't call me often enough and seriously, you two need to stop being so adorable. It's bad for my black heart."

"We're not that obnoxious."

"You kinda are but it's fine. I don't mind," Charlotte said with a smile so bright it could be felt over the phone. "By the way, you don't have to worry about mom finding out. She's been so busy with compiling the newest selections for the September issue that she's hardly ever around anymore. Although, since you left, she's had time to reflect on everything that happened before you went away to school. At this point, I doubt she'd care anymore; she just misses you and you refusing to text her or call is just making it worse."

"Let me guess, she asked you to say that next time I called," the young man huffed rather flatly. "Char, you know how she is. I doubt she got over me being gay that quickly. She'd have a heart attack if she knew I was engaged, and to a man no less."

"I'm telling the truth Jean. The days she does come home, all she does is sit around and look at family photo's or sit in the atrium and drink the Earl Grey tea you guys used to have all the time. She misses you Jeany, I know she does. Can't you just trust me a little on this one?"

"Missing someone doesn't mean you've accepted them," Jean sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose at the mounting headache that he felt coming on. "It'd take a miracle for her to change that quickly."

"Or her only son cutting her out of his life for four long months."

Glancing over his shoulder to find that Marco had walked off to look at the duffel bags--probably to give him some privacy as well--Jean released a stress-laden breath. He hated talking about this because nothing would ever change when it came to his mother. Trying to convince that woman that being gay was perfectly normal was like asking a brick wall to bow down; it just didn't happen. But part of him hoped that maybe something had changed because he did miss home. He missed his father, sister, and even his mother. Before he came out, Jean and Simone had a close relationship and spent many afternoons together. Growing up, he was always her "date" to red carpet events when his father was gone on an assignment. She was also the first person to spot his love for photography and even bought him his first digital camera when he was ten. But everything changed when he told her he liked boys.

"Look Char, I have a plane I got to catch soon. But I'll talk to you when we land, okay?"

"Where're you flying to?"

"Australia for the Aussie Open. Marco got an invite for the Bells Beach championship so I'm going with him."

"Lucky! I wish I could go. Bring me back a souvenir. Pretty please?"

"I was going to anyways you dork," Jean laughed. "Love you Char. Give everyone my love, including mom."

"Will do. And tell everyone I said hi. Also, if you see Armin, could you..." she paused before changing her mind. "Never mind; it's fine. Just tell him I said hi and that I hope he's doing well."

Shaking his head, Jean smirked. "You know, he's been asking about you too. You should just call him if you miss him that much."

"It's alright. Knowing him, he's probably just being polite. He's always been sweet like that you know. Anyways, I gotta go. I'm heading into a casting call for the fall/winter runway so wish me luck."

"Ha! Like you need it. You'll knock 'em dead Char. Good luck sis. Love you."

"Love you too Jeany."

And just like that, she hung up and left Jean alone with his thoughts. Maybe Simone really did miss him. Maybe, just maybe, she had changed her mind and came around to the idea that her son preferred men over women and had a steady boyfriend. The likelihood of it all being true was slim but it could still happen. Or not. He wouldn't be able to tell until he and Marco arrived in New York at the end of June for his mothers' charity gala. If she could accept him walking the carpet with his fiance in tow, then it'd be proof that she was open to talking. If not, then he'd cut her off for another couple of months.

Leaving the shop, Jean stopped when he noticed Marco sitting comfortably on the bench adjacent to the exit he was coming from. He knew that look on his face. It was the one that meant he could see right through him and tell what was going on without having to speak a single word. Jean hated that look because it made him vulnerable when he didn't want to be. Then again, Marco was just as transparent when he was trying to hide from the blonde so it was an even exchange. But still, he didn't really feel up to talking about his mother or his reluctance to reconnect with the woman.

Approaching his lover with slight apprehension, the photographer bit his lip while rubbing the back of his neck with one hand as the other toyed anxiously with the loose thread inside his pant pocket. Coming to a halt in front of Marco, he took a deep breath while closing his eyes. He could feel the mans' gaze on him; feel it boring through him in the painfully loving way it did in moments like these. Exhaling when he felt Marco's hand take his out of the pocket so that their fingers could weave together, Jean opened his eyes to stare at their joined hands that hung in the space between them. This talk was going to happen whether he wanted it or not so it was best if he didn't fight it.

"You know," Marco began with a reflective tone, "my grandparents weren't particularly enthused when they found out that their grandson was bent either. The summer right before junior year, I invited my boyfriend, Kai to the barbecue we have every year for the Fourth of July. I didn't think it'd be that big of a deal since we had been friends long before we ever dated but the moment my gram saw us holding hands and leaning on each other, she flipped her stack. She told me that what I was doing was a disgrace to the family and that if I had any sense, I'd break up with him."

Biting his bottom lip, Jean dared to look up at Marco. "What'd you say?"

"I told her no. That it was my life and I got to decide who I'd spend it with. When neither of my parents backed her up, she grabbed her purse and left."

"Did you guys ever talk again after that?"

Wrapping his arms around Jeans' waist, Marco nuzzled against his lovers' stomach. "For a while, no, we didn't. She tried to set me up on dates with girls but I refused every time one of them would call me. I felt bad turning them down but I was already with someone and she needed to understand that. Eventually though, when I least expected it, she came over for lunch and told me that didn't care anymore; that losing her grandson wasn't worth the fight. We were back to talking like normal by Christmas although I kept a lid on the PDA," the brunette finished with a warm chuckle.

Raking a gentle hand through his fiance's wavy hair, Jean smirked. "I wonder how she'll react when you bring me home."

"She probably would have just groaned or something but it's too late to tell. She passed away in late June after my seventeenth birthday; heart attack."

In that moment, Jean felt like he had been gutted by a sudden sucker-punch to the chest. All the air in his lungs evacuated leaving him speechless. That last sentence explained so much; namely, why Marco was always so careful when it came to Jean's health. His grandmother who, despite being a bit narrow-minded, had been taken from him without warning from the same illness his fiance suffered from. And loving Jean just as much as he had his gram, it would make sense that Marco would support anything that could prevent him from losing the man he hoped to one day settle down with.

Looking up from where he had nestled in the soft fabric of Jeans' shirt, Marco smiled softly. "My point here is that we don't know how much time we have left with the people we love. My grandma, your mom, us... None of our lives are certain and our futures aren't guaranteed so we have to love the people around us and cherish every minute with them as much as possible so that, when they do die, we aren't left with any regrets. I don't want you to live with that kind of pain Jean; not when it can be avoided. I didn't think my gram would change but she did because she loved me enough to see past my orientation. Maybe the same thing happened to your mother. You'll never know though unless you talk to her. Understand?"

Nodding, Jean wrapped his arms around Marco; keeping him right where he was. "Yeah," the blonde sniffled only a bit. "I know. I'm just a little afraid because she's one of the few people that knows everything about me and can hurt me the most."

"I get that babe, I really do. But you have to try. If she's doing what Charlotte says she doing, especially after that interview in the magazine back at the house, and I'd say it's safe to assume that she really does miss you. It's not going to be an immediate change Jean, but she is trying. The ball's in your court so you have to make the next move. 'Kay?"

As the words had been spoken, there came a voice over the intercom paging them both. Apparently, the plane had begun to board its' first class passengers and they needed to report to their gate to collect their carry-on before checking in. Peeling himself away from the blonde, Marco rose to his feet. Kissing Jean once on the lips, he told him he was going to go grab their bags from the lounge. What he was actually doing was giving him space to collect his thoughts and, maybe, call his mom. When the brunette was out of sight, Jean pulled his phone out of his pocket. With a heavy sigh, he hit the two on his speed dial and held it up to his ear.

"Hello?" spoke the familiar smooth voice belonging to his mother peppered with the slightest hint of her native Finistere accent.

Smiling lightly, Jean realized how much he missed her. "Hey mom, it's me," the young man smiled.

There was a small gasp on the other end and the sound of a door closing. She must be at work since she never needed privacy at home. The woman just wandered into whatever room she felt like relaxing in regardless of it being the atrium, the kitchen, or one of her children's bedroom.

"Jean? How are you honey? Are you eating well? I asked your sister to see if you're staying on top of your eating habits and taking your medicine every night. How's school? Did finals already pass?"

"I'm fine mom," Jean chuckled when he heard the worry in her tone. She'd never stop stressing herself out over the smallest things no matter how old he was. "I'm eating alright and finals were at the end of May so yeah, they're long gone."

"How do you think you did?" Simone asked; her voice more excited than worried.

"Pretty sure I aced them."

"I'd expect nothing less from my baby," she beamed.

Snorting a laugh, the young man rolled his eyes then bit his lip, hesitating to say the next words. "Hey mom...?"

"Yes?"

"I wasn't going to tell you this until I came back for the gala but I wanted to tell you before it was leaked in the gossip columns."

"What is it Jean? Is something wrong?"

"No. More like it's something wonderful. Well, for me it is and I hope it'll be for you too." Forcing his heart and lungs to cooperate, Jean said a quick prayer before delivering the news. "I'm engaged mom."

There was a long silence before she spoke. "To a woman or a man?" Simone asked; her tone unreadable.

"A man. His name is Marco and he's the one mom. I know you don't support it but I love him, so much it literally hurts sometimes. It kinda freaks me out but that's how I feel about him and I wanted to tell you before anyone else had the chance to because you're my mom and you have a right to know because I love you even if you don't want to hear this from me."

Another long pause came followed by a sigh.

"Okay," his mother said, almost as though she were waving a white flag in defeat.

"Okay?" Jean parroted in disbelief. "Okay as in you're fine with it? Or okay meaning...?"

"I'm fine with it honey. Well, I'm trying to be okay with it. I'm just grateful you had it in you to tell me instead of it coming from someone else."

"Really?"

"Yes. We've been arguing about this for too many years now and it's not worth it. Not anymore. You're my son and that will never change. I can't promise that I'll be entirely comfortable around him but I will try."

Tearing up, Jean sniffled while wiping his tears off on the back of his sleeve. "I love you mom," he cried without thinking.

"I love you too Jean," Simone cooed soothingly. Waiting for a moment when she heard his name called on the intercom, she laughed lightly. "Where are you flying to?"

"Australia."

"Why?"

"About that. Marco's a professional surfer and got invited to the Aussie Open in Melbourne. Since the semester is over, I said I'd go with him."

"Sounds like it'll be a fun trip. Remember to get up every couple of hours to make sure you don't get any blood clots in your legs."

"I will," he smiled. "So, are you really okay with all of this? You're not just saying you are or have a girl you plan on setting me up with when I get home?"

"I promise you, I'm fine with it. Now go catch your flight before you miss it and upset your fiance," she said, her words struggling only a little with the last word. "I love you honey."

"I love you too mom. To the moon and back. I'll text you when we land for our connecting flight."

"Okay. Have a safe trip. Love you."

And just as unceremoniously as their conversation had started, it came to a close. Jean knew she was probably up to her neck in work but had still taken the time to listen and hear him out. He never would have expected her to take the news of his engagement as well as she had. The woman had yelled at him when she found out he was dating a guy back during his freshman year of high school. Part him wanted to believe that she was up to something but Simone wasn't like that. She wasn't malicious or scheming. Everything she did, she did with honesty and commitment. So if his mother said she was fine with him marrying a man, then she must have been; as remarkable as that statement was.

Abiding the urgent call over the speaker as he was paged a third time, Jean wiped the remaining tears from his face then turned to head back toward the gate. Meeting Marco at the call desk, he took his duffel bag then gave the man a quick kiss after they had handed their boarding passes and passports over to the flight attendant. When she had returned the items, they joined hands and walked down the long hallway that connected to the massive aircraft.

"How'd it go?" Marco asked with a knowing gleam in his umber eyes as a smile tugged at his lips.

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, Jean smiled. "Good. Everything's perfect now."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The press was everywhere when the couple landed in Australia. Apparently there was no use in lying low when the legendary "Flying Hawaiian" was making his comeback after a three year hiatus. Marco held onto Jean's hand as tightly as he could while his manager, Jodie and her assistants Elijah and Dane acted as bouncers to keep the nosy photographers at an arms length. Ignoring the prodding questions, the microphones that popped up in his personal space at random, and the prying eyes that burned at the twin engagement bands they wore, the brunette tugged his hoodie up and slipped on his aviators while Jean did the same. This was the only downside to professional surfing. The stardom that came with making it big had a tendency to eclipse the joy he got from the sport.

Making it to the car in virtually one piece, Marco and Jean slid into the back of the massive hunter green Land Rover while Jodie hopped into the drivers seat and her assistants trailed in their cherry red Jeep Wrangler. Once they were far enough away from the airport, she turned on some music while the two men in the back rolled down the windows to let some air in. It was fairly cool; likely the low pressure from the oncoming storm that would hit later that week between the prelims and the finals.

"Well that was one hell of a welcome," Jodie laughed; her familiar New Yorker tone ringing happily in Jean's ears. "It's like they could smell blood in the water."

"I guess they could see I was anxious," Marco offered with a laugh though not enough to mask the truth in his words.

"Remember what I always told ya' kiddo, don't let them know you're afraid. Speaking of kids, this must be Jean."

At the stop light, the fiery redhead turned to reach over the seat and shake his hand. Surprisingly, she had a cripplingly firm handshake for someone as slim as her. Built like a pixie with long legs slapped on at the last minute and a face to match, the woman was the image of cool femme beauty. But that attitude and readiness to make good on a bite as bad as her bark lent Jean to believe she was much more than a pretty face. She had to be tough if she was Marco's manager.

"Jodie Fraiser. I'm Marco's manager."

"Jean Kirstein. Nice to meet you."

"You related to Charlotte Kirstein by any chance?"

"Yeah, she's my older sister. Why?"

"My cousin's her agent. Small world, huh."

"You're Eric's cousin?" Jean laughed. "Well, I guess it makes sense. You handle crowds the same way he does. A little brute force and--"

"A whole lot of smiling to throw 'em off," she snorted, finishing his sentence with a cheeky grin. "I take it you know him pretty well."

"Kinda but not as well as my sister. It's nice to finally meet you since he talks about you often. Well, he mentions you a lot."

Snapping back with a cackle, she shook her head as they turned onto a quiet yet well tended to gravel road. "He's got a mouth on him, he does. Anyway, down to business since there'll be enough time for small chat at dinner. So Marco," she said, her tone switching quickly to a more authoritative pitch. "I know you don't want to do a lot of interviews while you're here so I tried to keep it to a minimum. You have three lined up for this week, the first being tomorrow morning with Kimberly Lang from Good Morning America. The second is on Tuesday with Max Harlow from ESPN and the third is in the evening, same day, with Joanna Boutros for the morning show for BBC Australia."

Nodding as he took in the information, Marco kept his expression calm while his hand squeezed Jeans. "And next week?"

"I have four scheduled but two are ten minute slots for the event itself. One is with Kelly Slater so it should be relatively mellow. The other two are with local stations so you won't have to be on camera which I know you hate.Those are a bit longer, about twenty minutes or so but nothing too bad. Sound alright?"

"Yeah, that sounds fine."

Pulling up to the front facade of a blue grey Cape Cod style beach house with it's very own sheltered exterior veranda and short stilts to keep it safe from the tides during the wet season, Jodie killed the engine of the car and hopped out. It wasn't anything like the warm cozy house Jean loved so much back home because it was like an extension of Marco. Instead, this one was more like Aulani with its precise angles, immaculate and simplistic decor that could easily be described as shabby chic. And the cool neutral colors were her doing as well; no question about it.

With a final hug to Marco and a firm handshake for Jean, Jodie and her two assistants left in the red Wrangler. Apparently the Land Rover belonged to Aulani and Hector but, since there wasn't enough room in the Jeep, they had to bring both cars. Taking Jean's hand in his, Marco turned them around to head to the front porch where their luggage was already waiting for them inside. The house had a grand open air foyer with a spacious floor plan that included four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a loft that took up the entire third floor, a small study and library, an animation suite for Hector, and a model room for Aulani. Decorated in varying shades of white, blue, and gray with earthy browns, sage greens, and soft yellows thrown in here and there, it was a relaxing property with enough breathing room to make a small army feel comfortable.

Wandering down the hall on the second floor as Marco brought up the bags, Jean looked over the pictures that lined the walls. Images of Bott family out fishing in Thailand, swimming with pigs in the Bahamas, and sledding in Austria provided a glimpse into his lovers past; each showing a little more of the man behind the mask. There were photo's when the two siblings looked exactly alike since the sun had colored them a deep shade of bronze and their eyes were covered by sunglasses. Then there were moments when they looked totally different though still related. Ymir was never without her signature mischievous smirk except in the picture where she had been caught fawning over her newborn baby brother as he slept in his crib. Following it was a moment that made Jean chuckle. Bordered in a thin sleek black frame was a photo of little Marco and Ymir huddled together in their treehouse--curled up together and asleep under the same small yellow blanket.

"That's from when we tried to run away from home but wound up in the treehouse," Marco said with a light chuckle as he wrapped his arms around Jeans' waist while pressing into him. "We were so obnoxious at that age, I'm surprised my parents put up with us."

"Well you were pretty cute back then. I could see why they'd overlook the tantrums," Jean teased as the brunette kissed a small trail down his neck.

"Were?" the other man scoffed, now nipping at the nape of his fiance's neck.

"You're pretty adorable still but you're much more sexy than you are cute," the blonde contested as the bites continued. Knowing full well where this was going, Jean moaned long and low as Marco gently rolled his hips against his lovers'. "Marco," Jean breathed as he turned in the mans' grasp so that he could kiss him on those lips he wanted to taste so badly. "Which room is yours?"

Flashing him a wicked little smile, Marco winked then took him by the hand to lead him to the third floor. "Come on."

"You get the loft all to yourself?"

"Well I am here more than anyone else. And wait until you see the view from the room."

Laughing at how excited his lover was, Jean had no trouble keeping up with him. "This better be good," he beamed as they hurried up the stairs connecting to the loft.

When Jean had stepped foot into the space, it was like he was back home at Marco's--soon to be theirs--house. Furbished in the same seaside style with just minor changes and adaptations here and there, it was almost an exact replica of his living space in Santa Barbara. But that wasn't the reason the brunette was eager to show him around. Leading him into the hidden master bedroom, Jean was greeted by a massive expanse of the ocean and the early evening sky gazing back at him through the wall of glass windows. The panels were self-tinting and got darker as the sun climbed higher in the sky and cleared as it set.

Before he could gawk any longer, Marco's lips reclaimed his as the brunette spun him around and caught him in a heated embrace. The man was always at his most insatiable when he was stressed out. It's when his manners failed and his internal wants and needs came roaring into the foreground. Combing his hands through Jean's soft blonde hair, one dropped to secure him at the waist as they stumbled backwards against the bed. Hitting the cushy mattress with a light "thud," the young man smiled with a sigh as his lover removed his jacket and t-shirt.

As the brunette sat back on his haunches to rid himself of his two jackets and shirt while simultaneously toeing off his shoes, his fiance busied himself with undoing the pull tie on his black joggers. Shivering when he felt Jeans' breath over the head of his clothed erection, Marco groaned as the blonde kissed and bit the sensitive skin around his stomach before flipping them over. Reaching behind him, the photographer pulled his lovers' pants and underwear off the rest of the way with one quick yank. Taking a moment to drink in the sight of that flawless sun-kissed skin while savoring the worshiping expression on Marco's face as he looked up at him--his hands mapping the fair expanse of his lovers' torso--Jean shivered when the brunette's hard member pressed up against his backside.

"Marco," Jean breathed; his voice going rough from the raw desire coursing through his veins. "I want to ride you tonight. 'Kay?"

"Will you be alright?" Marco asked, his eyes flicking over to the patch of his chest under which sat his heart. "Can you handle it?"

"I'll be fine baby," the blonde vixen assured him. Taking his lovers' hand that had trailed up to his heart, he slowly moved it back down, letting the tips of his fingers take in the twitch and roll of his muscles before stopping at his pelvis where it cupped his hot length. "Make love to me like it's our first time all over again Marco."

Licking the tip of his left canine, Marco smirked devilishly. Sitting up, he toyed with the elastic band of Jeans' tight black boxers. Kissing the tip of his cock, he held his moaning lover in place with one firm hand against his back while the other teased the smooth skin of his thigh. Dragging his nails up the back of his leg while mouthing Jeans' length, Marco felt himself get harder with every moan, gasp, and tug of his hair. Deciding to finally give him what he was not so quietly asking for, the brunette pulled down his lovers' boxers and took his entire length in his mouth.

"Marco!" Jean screamed out in wild pleasure as his fiance took all of him in his hot and deliciously wet mouth. "Oh my God baby, fuck, I love you. Keep going. Just like that," he panted as Marco sucked and bobbed his head. When he circled the top of the head with his tongue, Jean cried out. "Shit! Marco, don't stop!"

Slowly pulling off of his very vocal fiance, Marco licked up the underside of his straining erection then kissed the tip sweetly; licking his lips appreciatively. Looking up at Jean who was staring down at him in a state of total awe, Marco winked.

"You have no idea how good you taste Jean," the brunette smirked playfully.

Shivering at the purring of his voice, Jean arched a single brow while wearing an equally devious grin. "Probably not as good as you."

Whistling, Marco bit his bottom lip. "And he's got the banter to back the body. I really lucked out with you, baby."

"I could say the same about you, hotshot," the blonde breathed as Marco slowly jerked him off. Rolling into the sensation, Jean let his head fall back while he held himself up with both hands planted firmly on his lovers' legs. "Fuck," he moaned; the sound dragging itself from him. "I want you so bad. I've wanted you since the morning we left for the airport. Fuck, Marco I need you inside me."

Growling at the last part of the statement, Marco tightened his grip over Jeans' stiff length to slowly milk him. Once his fingers were coated in enough pre-cum, the brunette sat up so that he could kiss his trembling lover as he pushed a finger inside his hot tight entrance. Whimpering into the embrace, Jean breathed in ragged pants as the digit gradually worked him open. A second one soon followed--starting with a thrusting motion that fast developed into a scissoring action that stretched him more. Gazing up at the stars as they appeared one by one in the night sky above them, Jean choked on a strangled cry of euphoria as the third finger pushed inside him; brushing teasingly over his prostate.

"M-Marco," he heaved, feeling his breathes shorten as the digits thrusted harder and deeper inside. "Baby, stop. I don't want to come yet. Not yet."

Not needing him to say anymore, Marco slowed his pace before removing his fingers from the tight heat. Sitting up completely so that his eyes were level with Jean's chin, Marco lined the tip of his long hard erection up with his lovers' entrance. Looking back up at the blonde with those big dreamy cow eyes he adored so much, the brunette flashed him a smile. It wasn't the smoldering grin that had him melting at the knee or the awestruck look of happiness that he got sometimes before they made love. This was something sweeter--grateful almost--that showed the joy brimming in those deep lakes of rich chocolate brown.

Smiling back, Jean kissed Marco long and deep and continued as he felt his lover carefully push into him. Moaning while his nails raked across his bronzed back, the blonde broke the embrace to roll his head back with a short groan as he adjusted to the intruding heat. Straddling Marco, he breathed in then out, letting his heart calm down while his body got used to the feeling of being filled. It was a sensation he had come to adore and crave because it meant being that much closer to the man he loved. Exhaling again, he laughed a little when he felt Marco twitch inside him. They weren't going to last much longer so they needed to make it count.

Kissing the warm dewy skin over Jeans heart, Marco tilted his head up to capture the mans' lips in a loving, sickly sweet embrace. "Can I babe?" he whispered.

Nodding, Jean smoothed back the damp hair from Marco's sweaty forehead. "Yeah, do it baby," he said while wrapping both arms around him. Crying out as Marco pulled back then thrusted up into him, Jean rocked in sync with him as they built up a rhythm. "Fuck, it's so deep. Marco, go deeper. I want you in me as far as you can go."

Obeying the urgency in his lovers' voice, Marco slung an arm around his lovers hips and rolled his hips up; tilting them at an angle that he knew would hit the blonde's sweet spot. When Jean screamed out in pleasure, the brunette knew exactly where to push and how long they both were going to last. Mapping the expanse of his fiance's chest--teasing his nipples and worrying small petal pink bruises into his neck and collarbone--Marco pushed harder and deeper than he had gone before.

"God babe, you're so hot," Marco hissed as Jean tightened around him. Playing with the dimples at the base of the blonde's spine, he loved the drunken cry of bliss it elicited from his partner. Biting playfully at his neck again, Marco thrusted upward into the young man with punishing precision. "Fuck, it's so good. You're so good Jean. Holy shit!"

"Marco," Jean gasped; his voice nearly gone from all the panting and screaming he'd been doing. "Marco, baby I'm going to cum!"

"Me too, Jean. You're gonna make me cum," Marco growled as his lovers' fingers knotted and tugged at his hair. "Babe, cum with me."

"S-Shit. Marco, I'm cumming! I'm--!"

As he whimpered the words, Jean was undone by a final punishing blow of Marco's hard cock driving straight into his prostate. Wailing louder than he thought possibly, he held his lover close as he came; shivering as he spilled onto his stomach while being carried through the tortuous high that left him feeling so good he thought he'd pass out. With another shudder, he felt Marco release inside him--the brunette digging his own nails into his fiances' back in an equally tight embrace.

Breathless and trembling, they remained like that for a long minute. Still joined and without words, Jean leaned back from resting atop Marco's head while his partner pulled away from his lovers' hot damp neck enough to look up at him. The brunette couldn't help the smile on his face when he saw that satisfied grin on the young mans' face. Jean looked absolutely wrecked and pleased with himself. Leaning in for a kiss, the blonde sighed as Marco slid out of him. Collapsing onto the mess of pillows, blankets, and sheets beneath them, the older man got comfortable on the flat of his back while Jean did the same, using his chest as a pillow and his heartbeat as an anchor to steady his breathing.

"We should clean off before we fall asleep," Jean yawned, his eyes slowly drooping shut as they stared up at the stars.

"Yeah, we probably should," Marco agreed but made no move to get up.

Closing his eyes while listening to Marco's heart, Jean smiled. "Or we could skip it. I don't mind smelling like you."

Chuckling, the brunette kissed the top of his fiances' head. "How about we rinse off after a quick nap?"

They both knew it wasn't going to be a quick nap and that they'd likely sleep through the night. But neither of them fought against it. Instead, Jean just nodded while pulling the blanket over them.

"Sounds good." Tilting his head up a bit, Jean kissed his lovers' chin then nuzzled back into the warm skin of his chest. "Night Marco," he sighed. "I love you."

Kissing the adorable blonde bedhead atop Jeans' head, Marco rested his cheek on top of it with a relaxed smile spreading across his features as he eyes fell shut. "I love you too Jean."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This song list is one of my personal favorites because it's Marco's beach playlist that he has been adding to since he was a kid. It has everything from Disney tunes to rock to 90's hits but they all have the same vibe and remind him of the beach, surfing, and the ocean in some way, shape, or form. It also shows the progression of his personality since some songs were added to blow off steam or help him cope with the pressure from the outside world.
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> *Surf's Up*
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> -"Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride" by Kamehameha Schools Children's Chorus & Mark Keali'i Ho'omalu  
> -"He Mele No Lilo" by Mark Keali'i Ho'omalu & Kamehameha Schools Children's Chorus  
> -"Somewhere Over The Rainbow" by Israel Kamakawiwo Ole'  
> -"You Only Get What You Give" by New Radicals  
> -"Every Morning" by Sugar Ray  
> -"Into Yesterday" by Sugar Ray  
> -"Pump It" by Black Eyed Peas  
> -"Hey Mama" by Black Eyed Peas  
> -"Don't Lie" by Black Eyed Peas  
> -"Santeria" by Sublime  
> -"Doin' Time" by Sublime  
> -"Caress Me Down" by Sublime  
> -"What I Got" by Sublime  
> -"Say It Ain't So" by Weezer  
> -"Beverly Hills" by Weezer  
> -"My Name Is Jonas" by Weezer  
> -"Renegade Survivor" by The Wailing Souls  
> -"Mary Jane Shoes" by Fergie  
> -"Sun Is Shining" by Bob Marley  
> -"Electric Love" by BORNS  
> -"Time To Pretend" by MGMT  
> -"Electric Feel" by MGMT  
> -"Sleepyhead" by Passion Pit  
> -"The Reeling" by Passion Pit  
> -"Bloom" by ODESZA  
> -"California (Tchad Blake Remix)" by Phantom Planet  
> -"What's My Age Again" by blink-182  
> -"All The Small Things" by blink-182  
> -"Feeling This" by blink-182  
> -"Ocean Avenue" by Yellowcard  
> -"Welcome To Paradise" by Green Day  
> -"Cherub Rock" by Smashing Pumpkins  
> -"Today" by Smashing Pumpkins  
> -"Can't Stop" by Red Hot Chili Peppers  
> -"Venice Queen" by Red Hot Chili Peppers  
> -"Minor Thing" by Red Hot Chili Peppers  
> -"Underneath It All" by No Doubt feat. Lady Saw  
> -"Platinum Blonde Life" by No Doubt  
> -"Rock Steady" by No Doubt  
> -"How Good It Can Be" by The 88  
> -"We Used To Be Friends" by The Dandy Warhols  
> -"Caught By The River" by Doves  
> -"All I Believe In" by The Magic Numbers  
> -"King Without A Crown" by Matisyahu  
> -"King Without A Crown (Youth Album)" by Matisyahu  
> -"Blue Ocean Floor" by Justin Timberlake  
> -"Waves" by Bahamas  
> -"High And Dry" by Radiohead  
> -"Flake" by Jack Johnson  
> -"Never Know" by Jack Johnson  
> -"Banana Pancakes" by Jack Johnson  
> -"Inaudible Melodies" by Jack Johnson  
> -"Breakdown" by Jack Johnson  
> -"Belle" by Jack Johnson  
> -"Constellations" by Jack Johnson


	19. How We Met, The Long Version

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren and Levi travel to New York to visit Grisha and pieces from Eren's past come together after having been forgotten for years...
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> 
> AUTHOR'S NOTE: Greetings from the outer orbits my chickadees! Sorry it has taken me so long to update this fic. This chapter was being a brat every time I tried writing it down but I eventually showed it who's boss. Haha. It also took me a bit longer than normal because I was trying to figure out how to pull off the little (actually big) plot twist I decided to throw in here. It's something I have been considering since chapter six and I thought, "well fuck it, just do it." This is the first of three chapters (non-consecutive) that will be focusing solely on Eren and Levi. Chapter twenty will be the second and chapter twenty-two will be the third so be ready for it. I hope you enjoy this installment. Let me know what you think in the comments below. 
> 
> Stay lovely and stay freaky,  
> -Mars

It had been ten years since Levi had seen the glittering lights of Manhattan and fifteen since he had seen his home town of Bay Ridge in Brooklyn. Circling over Broadway and Hell's Kitchen, he could feel his chest tighten and his lungs squeeze shut. It had been so long; was there any evidence of his existence left in the places he used to frequent? Was there any trace of him left on the streets he used to haunt with his friends? Was the graffiti art he and his friend Tye threw up on the inside of the old Beekman Palace still there? What was left of him there if anything?

As the man watched the skyscrapers and bridges pass below the belly of the plane, his shaggy haired lover began to wake up from his deep sleep. At first Eren only squirmed in his spot next to Levi. Burying his face deeper into the older mans' arm with a little groan, the kid mumbled some nonsense about a basement and not breaking the filing cabinet. When the jet hit a pocket of low hanging turbulence, Eren jerked awake. His emerald eyes were still glossed over with sleep and his unruly cinnamon hair was sticking up in every direction. When he saw the boys' appearance, Levi couldn't help but smile.

"I was just about to wake you up," the dark-haired man chuckled as he smoothed the hair from his lovers' face before placing a kiss on his lips. "We should be landing soon."

"Mmm?" the kid hummed as he rubbed his eyes open. When he felt Levi's lips on his, Eren finally woke up completely. Kissing him back, the brunette smiled. "Hey baby."

"Hey."

"Thanks for letting me use your shoulder as a pillow."

"Anytime babe," Levi chuckled while Eren reclined back in his seat with his head once more on his partners' shoulder.

"I didn't drool or anything did I?"

"No, you just talked in your sleep but nothing crazy."

Just as they began to get comfortable, the flight attendant came around and instructed them to move their seats forward and put up any lose items. As Eren sat up and buckled in, Levi put away his laptop and secured the tray it had been on. Moments later, the turbines revved and the drag flaps on the wings opened up. Like before when they had taken off, Levi let his young lover lean over him so that he could watch the plane land. Eren loved flying; so much so that he practically was bouncing in his seat as they were being taxied out onto the runway at LAX.

Laughing to himself as he watched the young man's smile broaden as they got closer to the ground, Levi braced himself as the aircraft touched down on the tarmac--snorting a laugh when Eren smacked his head against his shoulder when he was thrown off balance when they landed. Interrupting the kid as he rubbed the side of his jaw where he had hit, Levi tilted Eren's face to the side and kissed the sore spot for him. He was too adorable at times, he had to wonder if the boy would always be this way.

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Since they had flown first class by way of Levi's frequent flyer miles, the two were among the first to depart from the plane. With their carry-on's in tow, Levi and Eren entered the colossal arrivals lobby at JFK airport. It was just as busy and hectic as the older man remembered. Business men and women were zipping by while families awaited their missing members at the gate. A wife in military dress ran into her husbands' open arms while their young child held tightly onto her leg. A few feet away from them, another husband--probably in his seventies--waited for his spouse. When the elderly man caught sight of his husband, he smiled and placed a sweet kiss on his cheek before handing him the bouquet of flowers he had brought him. Outside, a family from Iran celebrated their arrival by jumping for joy and holding one another tight. Everyone was smiling--the father holding his crying wife tight while their children shouted and clapped.

The city was so much more alive than the last time Levi had been there. But then again, the last time he was in New York, it felt as though he were being brought back in chains to settle his parents estate. He had hated this city; despised it for what it had taken from him and for the reminders of his loss that lurked around every corner. Yet now he returned with his hope renewed. The life he had once lived and lost while there was buried under the new one he was now leading. Joined by the man he knew he'd one day share his life with, Levi was seeing things through new eyes.

Tightening his grip on Eren's hand, Levi brought it to his lips and kissed the back of it in assurance. Looking up, he caught the curious expression on his lovers' face. Letting go of his luggage for a brief moment, Levi cupped the side of the kid's jaw before leaning in and placing an adoring kiss on his soft warm lips. He loved him so much and only had the courage to come back home because of him. Others had tried but it was Eren that was able to get him on the plane.

"What was that for?" Eren laughed breathlessly as their lips parted from one another.

Looking into those glittering green eyes, Levi smiled. "I just love you, that's all."

"Dork," the brunette grinned as he brushed his nose against the older mans. "I love you too."

Humming happily, the older man bit his lip while appraising his partners' face. "Good to know. Come on, we need to hail a cab and get going before the traffic heading into Brooklyn gets ugly."

"You know, I almost forgot you're from New York."

"Not just New York, brat."

"Oh? Where from?"

Whistling at the top of his register, Levi hailed an approaching cab with little effort. "I thought I already told you where I'm from."

"Nope."

"Huh. Well, should I let you guess?"

Letting the driver load their luggage into the trunk, Eren slid into the back before Levi joined him. After giving the cabbie his address and preferred route, the brunette slumped back into the arms of his partner. Closing his eyes as he felt the mans chest breath in and out, Eren began to think of the places Levi could have lived. He didn't strike him as a Manhattanite even though he was closed off and reserved at times. He also didn't look like the kind of guy that'd be from the Bronx nor did he have the accent to match.

"Staten Island?" Eren asked, tilting his head up to look at Levi who was looking out the window.

"Not a fat chance kid. Try again."

"Well you can't be from Queens."

"And why's that?" Levi asked; his brow arching just a bit.

"Well, just because. Unless you are from Queens."

Chuckling, the older man kissed his forehead. "I'm not from Queens. Do you give up?"

"Yes."

"I grew up twenty minutes away from where you did."

"You're from Dyker Heights?!" Eren shot him a disbelieving look. "Are you serious?"

Nodding, Levi kissed his temple. "Bay Ridge actually but you were close." Leaning closer he whispered, "We even went to the same schools. Bet you didn't know that either."

"No I did not," the brunette breathed then turned to kiss his partner. "And don't whisper in my ear like that. You know what it does to me," he said lowly.

"Sorry. I'll play nice."

"You better. I'm already nervous of how my dad will react. I mean, he knew I was pretty bent before I even came out but you're the first serious...well, anything I'll be introducing to him."

"What about your ex's?"

Shaking his head, Eren bit his lip to hide his anxiety. "None of them ever stuck around long enough to be that important."

Blushing only a little, Levi cleared his throat while tightening his arms around the boys' waist. "I'm honored to be the first then."

"First and the last,"he said quietly.

Smirking fondly, the dark-haired man rested his head on top of Eren's as they made their way through the city. Passing through Queens, they soon entered their home borough of Brooklyn. Brownstone apartment buildings dating back to the turn of the century stood tall and proud next to newer luxury condominiums and old liquor stores. Children on summer vacation ran around in the parks or skateboarder down the streets. Some cooled off while playing in the new interactive fountains that spouted water through channels in the ground and drenched the people passing by the nozzles.

Entering the Borough Park neighborhood, Eren laughed a little to himself when he saw the orthodox boys walking to temple. He remembered when Jean had to do that every Friday on the Sabbath with his father, uncle, and grandfather. One time, he had joined them to see what they actually did not knowing that they had to fast until sun-down. Eren could still remember how he had embarrassed himself and his friend when his stomach growled loud enough that the people at the front of the temple hall heard him over the Rabbi who was in the middle of giving the opening prayer. Jean would never let him live that down. Even now, he'd still poke fun at him whenever he was hungry.

As the cab drove by Maimonides Medical Center, Eren smiled as memories of visiting the hospital with his father on Bring Your Child To Work day surfaced. He couldn't begin to count the number of procedures he got to sit in on; that is, after promising to be quiet and not fidget with any of the sterile tools in the cabinets. He had seen everything from a vaginal regrafting to corrective surgery for a lazy eye and, despite not choosing to pursue medicine as his degree, still found it fascinating how the human body could function in such strange ways. But the one trip that remembered more clearly than the others was when he met a pair of doctors that worked with his father--one a man with blue eyes that worked in pathology and the other a woman with piercing gray eyes that was the chief of surgery and worked in pediatrics. Eren couldn't think of why that memory in particular stuck out; just that it did and left him wondering why their eyes felt so familiar.

Pulling up to 8420 11th Ave., Dyker Heights right as the afternoon sun began to start its early evening trek, the young man looked out the cab window at the grand old home sitting at the center of a sprawling front lawn. Enclosed around it was a short wrought iron fence with brick knoll posts just tall enough to keep the dogs in. Exiting the car, Eren took his luggage in one hand and Levi's cool palm in the other. Tangling their fingers together, he breathed in deep then let out a sigh. After four years, Eren was finally home.

Walking up the ornately laid brick steps then walkway, he heard the yammering of two rowdy dogs as they came running into view. First to arrive on the scene was Chewy, the small fawn colored chihuahua that Grisha and Eren had found wondering around Coney Island when he was fifteen. She was only a puppy then with a bad case of gangrene in her front left paw. But after a surgery to amputate it, the pup was back up and running. She didn't even need a wheelie cart to help her get around; she just hopped along like a plane trying to take off.

Barking at him until the brunette picked her up, Chewy nipped at Eren's jeans and hopped in circles to show how excited she was. Chuckling, the young man bent over and collected the little spitfire into his arms. Dodging her tongue as she went to lick his face, Eren gave her a quick kiss on the nose then on the top of her head. She was his first dog and, in many ways, acted like a clingy girlfriend whenever he was around. Chewy slept in the same bed as him every night and cried when he would try to put her in the dog bed across the room. She followed him through the house, watched him play video games, and sat outside the shower as he was rinsing off. She was a silly little creature but he loved her to pieces.

"You want to try holding her?" Eren asked as he turned to Levi while petting Chewy's head. "She doesn't bite; well, unless she gets pissy but it doesn't hurt."

"That's reassuring," the older man chuckled as he gently scratched under her chin. Holding his arms out a bit, Levi let Eren hand the chihuahua off to him as the second dog came running up. "You know, I don't really like small dogs but she's pretty cute."

"It's her eyes that does it," the brunette stated with a smile as he bent down to pet Bunny, the all white Jack Russel terrier his dad brought home when he was seventeen. "Hey there Bun Bun. What's up? Wanna give me a high five?" Eren asked with a raised hand then praised the pup when it placed its paw against his palm. "If the dogs are in the yard then dad must be home."

Then, right on queue, the front door swung open and a tall man with deep brown eyes and dark hair that had been tied back into a ponytail appeared. Dressed down in a white t-shirt, a maroon cardigan, and a pair of black jogger sweat pants, the man looked younger than his years; given away only by the few gray hairs he had and the slight wrinkles around his eyes. Scanning the front yard, his gaze immediately fell on Eren. In the seconds that it took to register the image, the mans' face lit up like a child at Christmas.

"Eren!" the man shouted joyfully as he quickly walked down the path.

Smiling brightly, Eren ran towards him. "Dad!"

Collecting his son in his arms, Grisha held him tight with a small spin before letting his feet touch the ground again. "Hey there kiddo," he beamed while ruffling the boys' soft hair. "How's California been? You're looking a lot more tan than before. You been surfing again?"

Nodding against his chest, the young man couldn't have smiled any wider. "Yeah, I've had a lot of free time these past couple of weeks so I was out on the water with Jean. Oh, guess what! Jean's engaged!"

"Is he really? That punk is getting hitched and he didn't tell me after all the summer breaks' he's spent over here?"

"Seriously dad, it's not that big of a deal," Eren laughed. Looking over his shoulder, the brunette cleared his throat while pulling away from his father. "Dad," he began, walking to the steps to take Levi's hand. Looking at their joined palms, he smirked. "I know you two have already met but, dad this is my boyfriend, Levi."

Wearing an oddly sympathetic smile, Grisha extended his right hand. "It's good to see you again, Levi. I trust you're taking care of my son?"

"As usual," Levi chuckled giving Eren's hand a gentle squeeze. "He can be a handful at times though."

"Sounds like my kid. Well come in. We can't have you two standing outside all night," Grisha said as he turned to lead them into the house.

Like the exterior of the French Provincial inspired home, the interior was just as grand yet carried a noticeable coziness to it. Styled in the classic art deco manner, the space screamed elegance and sophistication. From the ornate pattern used to lay the cherry mahogany flooring to the black lacquer beams framing the high ceilings from which hung single tiered crystal chandeliers, everything had been picked with a purpose; even the Steinway grand piano and dark green leather arm chairs in the lounge matched the more "relaxed" theme in the living space.

As they made their way up the curved master staircase, Grisha pointed out the main rooms that would be of interest such as the location of the four bathrooms, where the kitchen was, which of the three lounge's was open for use, and where the library and music room was. He had a feeling Levi most likely still remembered where everything was but humored him just in case something had slipped over the years.

"To the right is the first guest bedroom and my room," Grisha said casually. "And to the left is the second guest bed and Eren's room. Feel free to use either of the guest rooms Levi. However, if you boys decide to bunk together, please keep in mind that the walls are paper thin and that the hallway has outstanding acoustics."

Blushing up to his ears, Eren frowned. "Was that really necessary dad?"

"You can thank your sixteen year old self kiddo." Stopping in front of the brunette's bedroom door, Grisha chuckled. "Well settle in and unpack. I'm going to go start dinner. Is schnitzel okay?"

"You're making schnitzel?!" the young man beamed.

"It's a special occasion so I thought why not."

"Did you want help cooking?" Levi offered which struck Eren as odd.

"Sure. Once you settle in you two can come down and help."

"Cool," the young brunette chirped as he opened his bedroom door then gave his father one more hug accompanied by a small sigh. "It's good to see you dad."

"You too Eren," he said softly with a pat to his sons' head. Peeling away from the kid, he smiled as he turned to leave. "Don't take too long."

"We won't," the two young men spoke in unison.

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Eren had taken a bit longer than Levi to unpack mainly because he had brought more with him in the off chance that they may stay an extra couple of days. Closing his bedroom door behind him, the young man made his way downstairs, humming along to "Under Pressure" as it drifted through the halls. 'Dad must already be cooking,' Eren smiled as he heard his father's voice singing along to David Bowie's vocals. But tangled up in the rich timbre of Grisha's voice was another. Accompanying him was...Levi?

Rounding the corner, the brunette was gobsmacked when he saw his father and boyfriend singing along to the song together; and doing a damn good job at it to be completely honest. He had never seen anyone so comfortable around his dad other than Jean, Armin, Mikasa, Connie, and, well maybe not Sasha. She always thought he was a little intimidating because he was so much taller than them. So to see Levi smiling while cooking next to Grisha and singing to David Bowie and Queen was a rare sight.

Folding his arms across his chest as he leaned against the entryway, Eren watched them go at it while admiring his man. Even in his old black track sweatpants from his Berkeley years, a grey henley, and his glasses, Levi was still devastatingly handsome. He had no clue how he was going to keep his hands to himself all week, especially since his partner was at his most affectionate when he was relaxed. 

Smothering a laugh when Levi hit Freddie's iconic high note near the finish of the song then was joined by Grisha as they sang "why can't we give love one more chance," the young man quietly began to move forward as the song wrapped up. Kissing his partners' cheek, he slyly reached for the mans' bottle of Spaten Franziskaner. Taking a sip as Levi returned the gesture, Eren swallowed the drink then accepted another kiss; this time a brief peck on the lips.

"I was wondering when you'd join us," Grisha smirked. Laughing when he saw Eren tense up--suddenly aware that he was in front of his dad--the older man shook his head. "You don't need to mind me. It's not like I don't know you two are intimate."

Groaning, Eren buried his face in Levi's shoulder. "Could you not, dad? Seriously, are you trying to kill me from embarrassment?"

"Well now I see where you got your teasing personality from," Levi joked as he took his beer from the kid. Turning around in the young mans' grip, he brushed back his wild cinnamon hair and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead. "Wanna set the table with me?"

"Sure. Just let me grab something to drink real quick."

Opening the fridge, Eren was grateful to see that his father was keeping it stocked with healthy foods instead of the junk he used to eat. Sometimes, the young man felt like he had to mom his own father. If he didn't, the man would be dining on heavily salted and fatty foods which were not only bad for his heart and cholesterol, but they had no business in the body of a man undergoing cancer treatment. However, the one thing he couldn't break his old man free from was his affinity for fine beers; not that he had a drinking problem, it just was expensive since they were all imports.

Popping the cap off a bottle of Old Rasputin, the young man picked up the porcelain plates with one hand and held his drink in the other. Rolling his eyes when Grisha told him to be careful with the dishes, Eren followed Levi into the smaller dining room that was just a stones throw away from the kitchen. The second eating space as through a pair of double swing doors to the right of the bar but they rarely used it anymore. The parties seemed to dwindle down after Carla had passed so it went unused except for during tax season when Grisha spent days holed up in there going over papers and crunching numbers.

Making quick work of setting the table, Eren felt that it was safe enough to put a move on his partner. He had been itching to kiss him properly all day but they hadn't gotten the chance. As Levi put down the last of the polished flatware, the brunette came up behind him and placed a whisper light kiss on his neck. Shivering at the sudden contact, the man smiled as his young lover wrapped both arms around his waist while kissing and biting a trail up his throat, jaw, and chin until making it to his lips.

"You know," Levi breathed against his partners mouth as their tongues met briefly. "Your father could walk in on us any moment now."

"I don't care," Eren argued as he carded his hands through that silken black hair he loved to play with. "I've been dying to kiss you all day. Just humor me. Please?"

Rolling his eyes, Levi kissed him back with equal passion. He had been wanting to hold Eren like this too but wasn't sure if it were appropriate to do so in the kids' childhood home. He thought he'd feel awkward about it or nervous but, as luck would have it, the boy was just as eager as he was to have a moment alone.

Leaning against the table's edge as Eren pressed into him, Levi settled one hand on the young mans' hip while the other threaded its' fingers into his lush brown hair. He loved how the kid was kissing him as if he were half-starved. He loved the naturally sweet taste of Eren's mouth and how the snappy pop of beer lingered on his tongue. He loved the warmth of his skin and that intoxicating summer scent that clung to the flesh around his neck. Levi loved and adored everything about the young man and couldn't help but become swept up in his heated embrace. If it weren't for the sound of Grisha's approaching footsteps, he would have taken him right then and there on the table.

Separating just before the kitchen door opened, the two straightened their clothes and wiped the spit from their lips. Eren didn't have to worry about his hair appearing ruffled because it was always an unruly mess; adorably so though. Trying to look as innocent as possible, Levi knew they had been found out when Grisha gave a knowing smirk while eyeing his pale neck. Reaching up, he could feel the hot spot Eren had worked a hickey into. Thoroughly embarrassed yet not enough to be ashamed he gave an apologetic shrug to the young mans' father as they sat down.

"So," Grisha began as he served the two others before himself. "How long can I expect to have you for?"

"Well I wanted to be here for your surgery and then, well we were thinking maybe a week after that," Eren said looking between his dad and Levi.

"Sounds nice. It'll be fun having you around again. The house doesn't feel the same without you."

"Sorry I've been gone for so long," Eren frowned as he reached down to pet Chewy who was pawing at his leg. "I got caught up with school and time just got away from me."

"It's fine Eren," Grisha reassured him. "I was just like you when I was in college. You're a hard worker just like your mom and I. It's nothing to apologize about."

"Yeah, I know but I still feel bad that it took me this long to visit."

"Well, you could always fly out on your breaks," Levi said from his seat next to Eren. "Your schedule is going to be less hectic next semester so you should have the time and you can always do your work remotely on your laptop if you need to submit something while you're away."

"Ah, that's right," Grisha mumbled while chewing on a forkful of schnitzel. Swallowing it, he wiped his mouth with the napkin. "I almost forgot that you were Eren's professor. Sorry, I'm not used to the idea of you being old enough to teach yet. In my eyes, you're still Ben and Kuchel's boy."

Laughing faintly, Levi nodded with a smile though his eyes weren't as bright as they were a moment ago. "I'm still their kid; just aged up."

"I know but it's a weird feeling seeing you grown up. I hope Eren didn't run you ragged this semester."

"I'm not that bad, dad," Eren griped while jabbing at his scalloped potatoes. "Mom was a lot worse than me but you never said anything about how hyper she was."

"That's because she was my wife and your mother. She also wasn't Levi's student," Grisha said with his fork pointed at his son before glancing back to Levi. "He wasn't a pain was he?"

"Not really. He did argue with me about working himself half to death and skipping meals but he's gotten better," Levi flashed a devious smirk as he took a swig from his beer.

"Sounds about right."

"You're no better dad so don't even start," Eren shot back. "I happen to know that you've been putting your doctors' through the ringer when it comes to taking your medication so don't start getting on that high horse."

"You've been talking to Arzu and Ken?"

"They called me." As Grisha grumbled 'traitors' under his breath, Eren reached out and took his fathers' hand. "Seriously dad, you need to take your medication and do it daily otherwise this is just going to get worse. You can't worry me like that."

"It's only a few polyps Eren. It's nothing to be worried about. I'll be--" Grisha paused when he saw the look not only on Eren's face, but Levi's too. "I'm sorry kiddo. I'll remember to take my medication."

Smiling, Eren nodded while rubbing small circles into the top of his fathers' hand. "Okay. I'm going to hold you to that."

"Alrighty. Finish up your dinner. I got a movie you'll like."

"'Kay."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

After dinner, the three men retired to the second lounge room where the sixty inch flatscreen TV was hooked up. Nestled between Grisha and Levi, Eren petted Chewy while watching "Midnight In The Garden Of Good And Evil." He had read the book dozens of times and loved it but didn't know it had been made into a movie. Leaning against his fathers' broad shoulder, he smiled when Grisha laid his head on top of his.

Eren had missed this more than he thought. He missed being around his dad, getting to joke around with him, and share quiet little moments like this with him. He missed talking about school and his work to him especially because Grisha always expressed how proud he was of the kid. The young man had almost forgotten how similar they were to one another--both being hard workers and selfless colleagues that were always around to lend a helping hand. They even liked the same music--well, mostly--and read the same books and watched the same movies. Eren had missed all of this and it was as Grisha hummed along to "Skylark" during the closing credits that Eren felt the tears pushing against his eyes.

"Hey dad," the young man murmured quietly against his shoulder.

"Hmm?"

"I missed you."

Kissing the top of Eren's head, Grisha smiled. "I missed you too kiddo. It's good to have you home."

\----------------------------------------------------------------

It was a quarter past midnight when Eren woke to the sound of rain on the balcony and a warm breeze that danced through the room. Sitting up as he rubbed the sleep from his dreary eyes, he immediately noticed Levi missing from the bed. Furrowing his brows, the young man slid out from under the sheets--being extra cautious so that he didn't wake Chewy--and padded over to the double French doors that led out onto the private balcony. Sitting under the marbled glass and wrought iron awning was his partner; his head tilted back with both eyes closed.

Taking the opportunity while he still had it, the young man silently approached him--his footsteps masked by the sound of the summer rain. Then, like a feather brushing across skin, Eren kissed Levi's pale lips for a long lingering moment. Smiling into the surprise embrace, the older man opened his mouth just a bit so that his partner could deepen the kiss. Indulging them both, Eren held Levi's face in his hands while parting his lips. Leisurely rolling his tongue over his partners', the brunette relaxed into the kiss as it evolved in a way that was more natural to them. Giggling when Levi pulled him closer by the waist, the kid playfully nipped at his lip before pulling away for air.

"Sorry if I woke you," Levi said almost as a whisper as he brushed the hair away from his lovers' eyes. "I couldn't sleep so I came out here."

Nodding, Eren turned and sat down in between his legs--his back to the mans' chest--and rested his head against Levi's shoulder. "What's got your goat?"

"Nothing really. Just remembering what it was like when my parents were around."

"I'm sorry."

Shaking his head, Levi kissed Eren's temple. "It's nothing for you to apologize about."

Looking down at their hands that had already tangled themselves together atop Eren's stomach, the young man felt the same strange feeling he had been grappling with all day surface once more. Something was missing; or at least, he was missing something. Grisha was far too friendly with Levi to know him only as "Ben and Kuchel's kid" and that look on his lovers' face when they passed by the hospital meant something. He didn't know what it meant but there was something going on that he wasn't in on and it bugged him.

So, taking a chance, Eren decided to open up the can of worms he had been tap dancing around all day. Either Levi would shut down and not talk or he would fill him in on what he was missing. He'd find out soon enough as he had gathered the courage to finally ask the question.

"How do you know my family?" Eren said quietly; not daring to look behind him. "Grisha's a friendly guy but he treats you differently. Why is that?"

"You really don't remember, do you?"

Eren's face sprunched together as he thought about Levi's words. "What do you mean, I don't remember. What am I supposed to remember?"

"Seventeen years ago, Halloween. Your parents couldn't take you trick or treating so they asked their friends' kid to take you. He was dressed like a surgeon with powder blue scrubs--"

"And red paint splatter on his shirt," Eren breathed with wide eyes. Turning around enough so that their eyes could meet, the brunette studied his lovers' face before a light clicked. "Lee?"

"There we go," Levi smirked, kissing him on the cheek while wearing a soft expression. "I was wondering if you'd ever remember me."

Stuck in a state of shock, Eren couldn't register the words just yet. Holding him was the boy from eight blocks down; the same boy he had his first crush on and watched cry on the guest bed before disappearing from his life. His head couldn't believe it even though they looked exactly the same--even the eyes and the way Levi called him "kid" and "brat" just like his old babysitter Lee did. But his heart knew they were the same person. The kindness in his tone was the same as ever and his partner always did seem to have his eye on him to make sure he didn't fall off the deep end.

Holding the mans' face in his hands, Eren searched his eyes and felt reality settle in. "Holy shit, you really are him."

Levi smiled softly. "Sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"Yeah, why didn't you?"

"I thought you'd forgotten about me and I didn't want to bring up bad memories. Your mom died a year before I left so I thought it'd be opening up old wounds." Pulling Eren in closer, Levi nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck. "I always wondered what kind of person you'd grow up to be so when you can imagine my shock when you walked into my newsroom with no recollection of who I was."

"That must have been rough," Eren teased.

"More than you know. I knew you were going to be a good looking kid, but fuck. I had to stop myself from glancing over at you during hell sheet once or twice."

Laughing, the young man rested his head on top of Levi's. "Shit, if only I had known, I would have made a move on you sooner."

"What do you mean?"

"You're the first person I liked Levi. You were the only person that put up with me and listened to me when I was upset. I don't invite just anyone into my secret tower, you know," he smirked, mentioning the the attached tower on the house that was once Eren's favorite hiding spot. Going quiet, he tightened his grip on Levi's hands. "We'd you leave?"

The older man was silent for a long moment as he contemplated the words he was going to say next. He hadn't spoken about his family in so long, it almost seemed as if that child he once was no longer existed; like he was someone else or him in another life. It was hard to believe that that child who had smiled so brightly then cried relentlessly for days--weeks even--was him. But they were the same person and both versions of him were equally cherished by Eren. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed and let the memories return.

"Both of my parents were doctors. My dad went to school with your dad and they worked in the same department together. Our mom's worked together in pediatrics and lived in the same apartment building before they met our dad's. I think all four finally met at a work function but I know they were friends long before either of us were ever born. I vaguely remember the day you were born. My mom said something about you having the biggest eyes she'd ever seen. I thought she was making it up until I looked at you and saw that you really did have big eyes."

"You were there on my birthday?"

Nodding, Levi smirked. "You were so annoying with all the crying you did and you wouldn't shut up unless your mom was around."

"I was a baby," Eren scoffed. "It's not like I had control over it."

"Yeah, right. Just like you had no control over biting my ankle when you were teething."

Blushing furiously, Eren looked away. "Please tell me I didn't do that."

"You did. And you know that crescent shaped scar on my stomach. Yeah, that was you too. You didn't stop until I bit you back but then you just started crying again. Guess some things never change."

"You keep smirking like that and I will bite you," Eren groaned.

Kissing the young mans' neck, Levi smiled. "I don't mind so much now when you do." Looking down at their joined hands, his smile softened. "I remember when your mom passed away, you wouldn't stop crying no matter what Grisha did. By that time you were so attached to me I thought maybe I could help so I tried whatever I could. Eventually you got to the point where you could sleep without waking up from nightmares but you'd start back up if I left. My mom joked that I may as well just live here for the summer."

"How funny of her."

"You have no idea. My mom would give Grisha's wit a run for it's money. It sucks that she's not around to do that anymore," he laughed, choking a little on the last part and he felt the sting of tears in his eyes.

"Levi...?"

"You know how your parents used to work with the Red Cross?" When Eren nodded, Levi bit on his lip while forcing himself to say the next part. "They stopped after my parents passed while out on an assignment for the organization. My mom and dad always went as a team; they said it was too dangerous to go alone so they'd leave me in Kenny's care. The year I turned thirteen, they were assigned to a team in West Africa. That same year there was an Ebola outbreak that killed over thirty thousand people. I remember watching the news and thinking they're going to be okay. That because they were doctors it somehow spared them from the virus. But then one morning, I came down stairs and saw Kenny crying in the kitchen and his wife rubbing his back. That's when I knew my parents weren't coming home."

Unable to stop himself, Eren turned around and pulled Levi into the tightest hug he could muster. So that was why Levi was crying on the guest bed that night fifteen years ago. That's why he was a clean freak and always carried hand sanitizer on him. That was also why he had "KA/BA" tattooed on his wrist. It was all because of his parents. The reason he disappeared, the reason he didn't contact Grisha or Eren for so long... It all came back to the day he lost the two people he loved most. 

Holding him close, Eren gently rocked them back and forth while stroking his soft hair. Kissing him on his crown, the young man watched as the rain came down. As he waited for Levi's breathing to level out, Eren wondered how long it had been since he had cried like this; since he had allowed himself a moment of weakness and wasn't reprimanded for it. The man was always so strong and never showed any sign of frailty yet here he was quietly sobbing like he had lost his parents all over again. 'My poor Levi,' Eren thought as he rested his cheek on top of the mans' head.

"I'm sorry that you had to go through that. I wish I could've been there for you."

Laughing past his tears, Levi looked up. "You were there for me. The night after the funeral reception you came up to the guest bedroom across the hall because Grisha asked you to come find me. When you saw me crying, you got up on the bed and hugged me from behind and told me everything would be okay because you and Grisha would take care of me. I didn't want to tell you I was leaving the next morning with my uncle so I just nodded. I think you knew something was up though because you didn't want to sleep in your room that night."

"You know I was devastated when I woke up and saw that you were gone," Eren mused as the memory came back. "I thought you were my friend and then you just disappeared. If you thought I'm pissy now, you should've seen me then. I was upset for months and every time my dad mentioned your name I said I hated you."

"That's pretty extreme," the older man joked as he wiped the tears from his face. "I thought you said you had a crush on me."

"I did but I was angry because you left me."

"Well I won't do it again," Levi said against Eren's lips before kissing him. Holding onto the moment just a second longer, he parted with a sigh. "Now that I have you, I'm never going to let you go."

"You know," Eren spoke shyly, struggling to keep eye contact. "That would mean you want to, you know, settle down with me or something like that. Just saying."

"I do and I have every intention of making an honest man out of you Eren. But for now," he said while lifting the young mans' hand to his lips for a kiss. "Let's appreciate where we are. Now that we're together, I'm in no rush. I want to enjoy every moment of our relationship. 'Kay?"

Hiding in the crook of Levi's neck to mask his blushing face, Eren nodded. "Yeah."

"Eren..."

"Uh huh?"

Angling his head to the side so that his lips brushed Eren's ear, he whispered. "I love you. Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So everyone's got a certain song or two that reminds them of home. Whether it be good or bad, we all got that tune that--when it comes on--just takes us right back to where it all started. Well, Eren's got an entire playlist. So here, from me to you, is the Jaeger Throwback List.
> 
>  
> 
> **HOMECOMING LIST**
> 
> -"Empire State Of Mind, Pt. II (Broken Down)" by Alicia Keyes  
> -"Wake Up" by Arcade Fire  
> -"Fall In Love" by Phantogram  
> -"Islands" by Sara Bareilles  
> -"Boston" by Augustana  
> -"Stars and Boulevards" by Augustana  
> -"Into The Ocean" by Blue October  
> -"City Of Blinding Lights" by U2  
> -"Invisible (RED Edit Version)" by U2  
> -"Charlie Brown" by Coldplay  
> -"U.F.O." by Coldplay  
> -"Every Teardrop Is A Waterfall" by Coldplay  
> -"Strawberry Swing" by Coldplay  
> -"Marching Bands Of Manhattan" by Death Cab For Cutie  
> -"Soul Meets Body" by Death Cab For Cutie  
> -"Crooked Teeth" by Death Cab For Cutie  
> -"The Sound Of Settling" by Death Cab For Cutie  
> -"A Lack Of Color" by Death Cab For Cutie  
> -"The Melody Of A Fallen Tree" by Windsor for the Derby  
> -"Superman" by Five For Fighting  
> -"Blue Ocean Floor" by Justin Timberlake  
> -"Read My Mind" by The Killers  
> -"Human" by The Killers  
> -"Mr. Brightside" by The Killers  
> -"Smile Like You Mean It" by The Killers  
> -"No Better" by Lorde  
> -"Team" by Lorde  
> -"White Teeth Teens" by Lorde  
> -"Swingin Party" by Lorde  
> -"A World Alone" by Lorde  
> -"Young Blood" by The Naked and Famous  
> -"Girls Like You" by The Naked and Famous  
> -"Torrents Of Spring" by Tropics  
> -"Rapture" by Tropics  
> -"What Ever Happened?" by The Strokes  
> -"Wildfire" by blink-182  
> -"All The Small Things" by blink-182  
> -"Adam's Song" by blink-182  
> -"I Miss You" by blink-182  
> -"Jesus Of Suburbia" by Green Day  
> -"Homecoming" by Green Day  
> -"Whatshername" by Green Day  
> -"Heads Will Roll" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs  
> -"Y Control" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs  
> -"Maps" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs  
> -"Skeletons" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs


	20. At The Heart Of It All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi visits some of his old haunts and Grisha has a talk with the young professor concerning his sons' future....
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> HEADS UP!: So this is going to be a bit of an emotional roller-coaster and trigger warnings concerning cancer, chemo, and surgery are in affect so be aware of that before you start reading. I do hope you all enjoy this installment. I wrote it instead of the latest chapter for Afterglow because that one just doesn't want to be written yet. Hahahaaaaa.... I'm a terrible person. Sorry, not sorry.....okay, maybe I'm a little bit sorry.
> 
> Also, there have been minor changes made concerning Levi's childhood home. Before it was in Dyker Heights, Brooklyn, NY. Now it is Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, NY to keep with his ancestry on both his mother's and father's side; that being something you'll find out later in this chapter.
> 
> -Mars <3

"As Kenny and I went walkin' 'round the back of the old Edelman House, there came a low growl right as I had made it past the hangin' ivy. Now I reckoned it was an enormous predator of the spectral sort, possibly the fabled black dog that comes to drag trespassers to Hades," Benjamin Ackerman spoke with animated hands as he sat on the side of the bed next to his seven year old son, telling him his nightly bedtime story. "Your Uncle Kenny wanted to go first but I told him your momma would skin me live if anythin' happened to 'im so I went into the backyard first. As I did, the growling got closer and louder and more angry; like whatever was lurkin' in the tall grass would come and tear me to shreds." 

Clutching his blankets tighter while pulling them closer to his face, Levi gazed up at his father with wide starlight blue eyes filled with suspense. "Were you scared? Was it the black dog?"

Chuckling, the man nodded. "Oh I was terrified but you know what?"

"What?"

"I kept goin'."

"Why'd you do that dad? If you were scared you should have ran away."

"That's what Kenny told me; that we oughta turn tail and scram. But you can't run away from every challenge in life, sprout. Sometimes you gotta face it and trust in your own strength."

"But what if it was the black dog and it bit your head off?"

"Well then your momma would have been awfully mad at me."

"Oh yes she would have," Kuchel said as she entered the room; wiping her hands on her waist apron to clean them of the dish soap. "Honey, what have I told you about telling Levi those tall tales? You'll give him nightmares."

"I'm not scared mom. Please, I wanna hear what happens."

Eyeing her eager son then her mischievous husband with an arched brow, the woman caved. "Fine. Just this once." Leaning in she kissed her boy on the forehead while smoothing back his soft black hair. "Love you sweetie. Remember, you've got school in the morning."

"Are you and dad taking me?" the child asked with pleading eyes.

"I have the day off so I'll take you. Now lay down and let your father finished his story so you can rest. I love you sweetlove."

Smiling, Levi watched his mother walk toward the bedroom door. "Love you mom."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Levi woke up feeling as if he'd been rubbed raw. For the past three nights, all he could dream about was his parents; how his father used to tell him stories from when he was a kid only to be interrupted at the best parts by his concerned mother. And every morning after he'd rip himself free of the dreams, he'd open his eyes and stare at the ceiling for a good ten minutes to let his heart calm down. Peeling himself out of bed--making sure he didn't disturb Chewy who'd undoubtedly start barking and wake Eren up--he quietly padded into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Hunched over the porcelain sink, he gazed into the eyes of his reflection. 'Where did all the time go?' he wondered as he surveyed how much he had grown in the time since his last visit home. The last time he was in Brooklyn, he was a gangly boy with ears that were too big for his head and a weak hide. Until his parents had passed, he had lived a relatively sheltered life that felt more like a dream than his past. However, now, staring back at him was a grown man of twenty-eight that had grown into his ears and had learned to hide his emotions because it was the only way he could survive after the loss.

Rinsing his face, shaving, and then brushing his teeth, Levi silently crept back into the bedroom. Thankfully the dog was out like a light much like her owner. Looking down at Eren who was blissfully asleep with his wavy cinnamon hair in a chaotic halo around his head, the older man couldn't help but smile. Whenever they shared a bed--which was almost every night since his birthday--he always curled up on his side to be closer to Levi. It was like even in his sleep, the boy craved his body heat and sought it out without even knowing.

Turning away from his slumbering lover, Levi opened the closet where their clothes had been hung. Slipping into his black compression shorts that dropped to his knees, a white t-shirt, and his lightweight dark grey windbreaker to fight off the 5 a.m. cold, he then laced up his black and neon blue Brooks Ghost 9 running shoes; tapping the toe to the ground twice on each foot out of habit. Grabbing his phone and ice blue headphones from the top of the dresser, he walked back over to the bed. Leaning down he gave Eren a soft kiss on the side of his head while smoothing his hair away from his face. As he pulled away, Chewy let out a low tired growl.

"Shh," he chided the chihuahua yet still gave it a pat on the head. "Watch over him until I get back, shortstop."

Exiting the room with one final glance over his shoulder, he seared the ethereal image of the brunette slumbering with the sheets wrapped around his naked body into his head before closing the door quietly behind him. Tip-toeing down stairs, Levi was pleased to see he was the first one up. Grisha had been working long hours before their arrival and it showed in the way he carried himself and each strained sigh and grunt that he gave whenever he sat down or got up. For being fifty-eight, the man sure had the physical aches and pains of an eighty-eight year old. So making a mental note to make everyone breakfast before Grisha could do it once he got back from his jog, the dark-haired man polished off the granola bar he was working on, grabbed a small water bottle from the fridge then left out the back door.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

This was the third morning in a row that Eren had woken up alone. He could feel it before he had even opened his eyes. As his lashes fluttered open, he saw Levi missing from bed, again. He knew that he went on morning runs but those were usually around 7:30 a.m. when the chill in the air had gone since his partner didn't handle the cold all too well. For him to be out running at 5:00 when the marine layer was at its thickest--and in a bayside neighborhood no less, that was odd. Running his palm over the area where Levi should be, Eren felt his stomach turn. Something was wrong.

Getting up, the young brunette gave Chewy a kiss on the head before grabbing his boxers from the floor and his cream and navy UCSB raglan shirt. Slipping into the bathroom for a moment, he splashed some cold water on his face then brushed his teeth; placing the toothbrush back in the cup next to Levi's. Exiting into the room, he grabbed his put on his black jogger pants and collected Chewy into his left arm and headed downstairs.

It was too early to be up but he couldn't sleep without his other half gone; that ship had sailed a long time ago. As strange as it was, the only thing that could ward off his nightmares now was Levi. Something about his presence and the warmth of his body huddled up against him soothed Eren in a way nothing else could. Pressing start on the coffee pot, he went into the pantry to grab the dog food with a long drawn out yawn. Cursing to himself when he accidentally spilled the kibble onto the mat under the dog bowl. Watching Chewy eat up the pieces he had dropped, Eren just sighed and let it be.

Once the dogs had been fed, he made his cup of coffee and headed to the front porch. When he was little and couldn't sleep, he used to lay out on the grass in the morning and watch the sun come up. Deciding to do just that, he grabbed the gray and cream plaid wool throw blanket from the main lounge room then headed outside. Closing the front door quietly behind him, he wandered out into the middle of the front lawn, wrapped the blanket around him, and sat down. Staring at the horizon as the sun slowly climbed through the morning sky painting the neighborhood in shades of salmon pink and peachy orange, the young man finished his hot drink in silence. Flopping onto his back once he was done, Eren looked at the fading moon as it ran away from the encroaching sunrise. Maybe one morning, he and Levi could watch the sun come up together.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Levi's breathes came in hard ragged pants as he slowed his pace to a brisk jog. He had been running for the past half hour and had somehow wound up in his old neighborhood of Bay Ridge. Rounding the corner that used to be occupied by the O'Connell's drug store yet was now the home of a swanky "English" style pub, the man felt as if he had drifted into a foreign land. Nothing was as it once was--everything from the drug store to the look of his preschool that sat on the corner of 3rd and 79th; it all had changed in the fifteen years that he had been away.

What had once been a predominantly Irish-American neighborhood was now a mix bag of every ethnicity, orientation, and creed out there. Almost everyone that had lived there when he was a child had either moved or passed away; everyone except for Mrs. Bertram who was as old as time whom he spotted coming out of the convenience store carrying a bag of cat food, a copy of Home And Garden magazine, and a handle of Jack Daniels Tennessee Honey.

Reaching 3rd and 77th, Levi kept running until he reached his destination. Crossing the street, he looked up at the charming sage green wooden paneled house that stood proud and tall like a beacon in the storm. The Victorian-Italian inspired home stared down at him with the rising sun painting its ornate windows a glowing golden yellow--like eyes alight with fire. Gazing back at it while gasping for air as the aching in his ribs spread, Levi walked up to the steps of the house. It was the eighth one on the block and the only one painted pale green. Built before the first World War, 237 77th St., Brooklyn, NY was the oldest building on the block. It also happened to be home.

Smoothing his palms over the hard stone of the steps, the dark-haired man smiled as his fingers brushed the initials that had been scored into the cement years ago--LA, KA, and BA. Exhausted from the long run, Levi leaned his head against the wooden beam of the front porch while silently wishing he'd brought his key with him. What he wouldn't give to rinse off in the shower and relax on the couch. But he wasn't about to break into his own property so he consigned to just sitting there, catching his breath while the sun climbed higher in the mid-morning sky.

"Levi? Is that you?" spoke a familiar voice from across the street.

Rolling his head away from the beam, the young man looked to see who had spotted him. "John?" Levi smiled lightly wearing an expression of disbelief. "I thought you moved Michigan?"

Glancing to either side before he crossed the street, the elderly man sporting a faded Red Sox's baseball cap moseyed across the street; cane in hand. "Nah, Michigan's too cold for an old guy like me. I'm surprised to see you though. How's life over on the west coast? You still doing photography right?"

"Yeah, I'm still in photography. I'm a professor in the Media department at UCSB now but I'm still getting used to it."

"A professor?" John said with brows arched and a crooked grin. "I thought professors are supposed to be tired old men in suits. Ain't you a little young to be teaching?"

"Well I graduated three years ago and they asked me to stay as a professor, so I did."

"Wow, must be pretty talented for a school to jump at the chance to keep ya'."

"I'm alright. Some of my students are so much more talented than I am, I wonder why they're even in school. They could just quit and get a job with any major publication based on their talent alone," Levi argued, a small smirk warming his features when he thought back to Eren's photo of him. "Hell, I'd write them recommendations without them even having to ask."

Sighing as he sat down on the porch next to the young man, John took off his baseball cap and ran a wrinkled hand through his thick dove white hair. "So what are you back home for? You moving back in?"

Shaking his head, Levi stared at the road when he answered. "No, I'm only here for a week or two. My partners' father is having surgery tomorrow and I wanted to to be there to support him."

"Ah, got yourself a boyfriend huh. What's his name?"

"Eren."

"You mean Grisha's boy? The one you used to babysit?"

Nodding with a shy smile, Levi rubbed the back of his neck with one hand while the other fiddled with the laces off his shoe. "Yeah, that's him. We met at school during my last year in the grad program but he had no idea who I was."

"Well yeah, you've grown since then, kid."

"I know. Anyways, when I graduated, I immediately became his instructor when I replaced the outgoing photography professor. I tried to keep it professional when we went to San Francisco for a school competition, one thing led to another and we started dating."

"You know, that kid always liked ya'. He'd cling to you tighter than an opossum hangin' onto its mother."

"I remember that."

"Yeah. So if you came with Eren, why're you here? Grisha's place is over in Dyker Height's from what I remember."

Pausing for a moment, Levi stared at his shoe laces as his slim pale fingers twisted them tighter. "I couldn't sleep. I've been dreaming about my parents every night since I got here and it's just getting to me. I didn't want to burden Eren with it since he has so much going on already so I go on a run every morning and end up here."

"A part of you must miss this house if ya' keep coming back to it."

"I do but it's not the same anymore; not after mom and dad died."

They were silent for a while since there wasn't anything to be said. The house wasn't the same after Benjamin and Kuchel had passed. What was once the most vibrant, happy home on the block was now a standing grave housing the ghosts of Levi's past. Every joyful memory lingered in the halls and stood at the windows peering out waiting for him to return. It may have looked like an empty husk to everyone else on the block but to him, it was an ocean that had the potential to drown him if he wasn't strong enough. But John was right. Something about the house called to him; beckoning him home like a lighthouse in the eye of a storm.

"Maybe the reason you keep dreamin' about it is because you want to talk to someone about it," John began, his eyes trained on his house across the street. "And maybe that person is the one you came back here with. But that's just my theory," the man grunted as he rose. "I gotta get goin' kid. My granddaughter's flyin' in soon and I said I'd pick her up at the airport."

"Right, well tell Megan I said hi. Can't remember the last time I talked to her."

"Oh, she'll remember. Stay safe Levi and tell the Jaeger's I said hi."

"Will do," Levi shouted with a wave as John made his way back across the street.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eren was sitting on the couch mindlessly petting Chewy's soft ears when he heard the front door open. Grisha had gone to work a half hour earlier so the only person it could have been was his partner. Staring into space as Levi came inside, the brunette didn't attempt to move from his spot. He was too deep in thought and, if he were being honest with himself, upset that there was something bugging his partner that he wasn't privy to. Eren thought that they had reached a point where they could talk to each other about anything; that there weren't any secrets between them. Turned out he was wrong.

"Holy shit," Levi gasped as he turned the corner into the living room holding a bottle of water. "You scared me babe."

"Sorry."

Furrowing his brows at the quiet response, the older man took a step closer. "Hey, you okay?" When Eren looked up with a forced half smile and nodded, Levi knew something was wrong. Sitting down on the coffee table so that they could look each other in the eyes, he sat the water bottle on the ground next to his feet then took hold of the kids free hand. "Eren, what's wrong?"

Looking into those stormy eyes, Eren tilted his head to the side and tried to pulled his hand free. "It's nothing."

"Don't. Don't do that and say it's nothing when something's clearly bothering you."

"Then what about you?" the young man fired back. "You leave every morning at the crack of dawn and I wake up alone in a cold bed. You never go on runs before seven yet since we got here, I haven't once rolled over and found you sleeping next to me. You want to talk about something well then let's start with why you're never here in the morning."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know it bothered you that much."

"It does but what bother's me the most is that there's something happening with you that you won't talk to me about."

Staring into those furious yet beautiful pools of emerald green, Levi sighed. "Sorry."

Groaning, Eren rolled his eyes then reached across and pulled his partner into a tense though still loving kiss. "Stop apologizing and tell me what's wrong. I know you're probably thinking I've got enough on my plate as it is but I'm asking you Levi so please, tell me? I'll worry even more if you don't."

"It's just...I've been dreaming about my parents. It's nothing bad because the memories are always good when they come back. But when I wake up I realize it was a dream and that they aren't here. It's happened every night and I didn't want to wake you up just to weigh you down with it so I'd get up and go on a run to my old house."

"Baby," Eren breathed whilst wearing a sympathetic look. Kissing Levi's cheek, he brought him in to a comforting hug. "It's not going to weigh me down. I've told you before, I'm here for you no matter what. If you're sad, happy, anxious, mad...whatever it is, I want to be there for you. I want to catch you when you fall so please, tell me these things."

Wrapping his arms around Eren, Levi nuzzled into the soothing warm of the kids' neck. "I will; I promise. I didn't mean to hurt you like that or cause you any trouble."

"It's fine. Just communicate with me. I'm a good listener when it comes to these things."

Chuckling as the boy stroked back the dark hair on his head, the older man sank into his partners welcoming embrace. "Thank you Eren."

"You're welcome Levi." Kissing the mans' temple then nosing his ear, Eren whispered, "I love you."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Humming along to "Brand New Day" by Sting, Eren worked on dinner with Grisha while Levi worked on his laptop in the living room. The summer session had started that afternoon for online courses so the young professor had to post the first weeks' assignments and review the syllabus with the students. Handing his father the diced mushrooms for the Marsala chicken, the brunette sang the words he had memorized years ago when he was a child. 

Unlike other people his age, Eren loved the British singer because it was what he had grown up with. Instead of listening to artists like Britney Spears, Nsync, and 50 Cent, the boy was brought up on Blondie, Sting, Michael Jackson, Stevie Wonder, and Earth Wind And Fire. He remembered his mother and father grooving along to the same album. Grisha's favorite song was "Tomorrow We'll See" while Carla's was "Desert Rose." However, the moment "Brand New Day" came on, the two would sing the lyrics while looking at one another every so often as if they were performing for each other.

"You know," Grisha began as he scraped the crushed and minced clove of garlic into the pan, "you remind me of your mother more and more the older you get."

Snorting a short laugh, Eren glanced to his father out of the corner of his eye. "How's that?"

"You're just taking after her is all. It's the little things like how you bite the tip of your tongue when you're concentrating; she did that too. You also look and act just like her. You're both stubborn but do it in a caring way."

"I'm not stubborn. I just know when I'm right."

"Yup, definitely taking after your mother."

"Well at least I don't work myself to exhaustion like you and skip meals," Eren teased.

"Actually, from what Levi told me, you do." Chuckling low in his throat when his son cursed under his breath, Grisha wiped his hands then ruffled the kids' wild wavy hair. "Guess you take after us both. By the way, I heard you made managing editor of the school paper."

"Yeah, Krista's going to be the editor in chief and Jean's taking over as photo editor."

"Sounds like a good team you got there, kiddo."

Nodding as he rinsed his hands off, Eren turned around and leaned against the counter. "It is. I just hope I don't put too much on my plate and then burnout halfway through the semester."

"How many units are you taking in the fall?"

Biting his lip, he peeked at Grisha. "About fifteen."

"Eren," his father said sternly.

"It's my last full semester dad, and then in the spring I just got ten then I graduate. I wanted to take more this semester so that I can relax next spring and not have to worry about anything."

Folding his arms across his chest while eyeing the boy through the black frames of his glasses, Grisha sighed. "I understand Eren but you're far too young to be pushing yourself like that. Even I didn't take fifteen units that close to graduation and I went to med school. Does Levi know you're doing this?"

"Yes."

"And?" the father pushed with a single arched brow.

"He's not happy about it either. Every semester for the past three years, he's been telling me to take it slow; especially this last spring quarter. But I want to stay on track and graduate on time. Besides, one of those classes is one I'm taking just for fun."

"And what would that be?"

"Sociology of Popular Culture and Modern Society."

"You're taking that just for fun?"

"Yeah. I've taken classes with Professor Wonser before. He's really chill and doesn't assign that much homework. Most of the credit for the class is from the three group projects he assigns."

Groaning while pinching the bridge of his nose, the father squared his jaw. "That's not my point Eren."

"Don't worry Grisha," Levi said as he entered the kitchen to place his empty beer bottle in the sink and grab a water bottle from the fridge. "I'll keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't overwork himself. He already said that if it starts looking like too much work, he'll drop the sociology class before the sixth week."

"Well at least I can count on that," Grisha smirked.

Grumbling but not annoyed enough to deny Levi when he kissed his cheek, Eren shot his father an a-typical teenage pout. "Happy?"

"Yes. You're my kid and I'll be damned if you work yourself into an early grave. Can't kick the bucket before your old man ya' know."

"That's not funny dad."

"Sure it is," Grisha chuckled. Looking over to the skillet their dinner was simmering in, he turned back to face the two young men in front of him; both trying to hide what his last comment did to them. "The food'll be ready in ten or so minutes. How about you both set the table and I'll bring it out when it's finished?"

Leaving the kitchen wearing pensive expressions, Grisha kept up the facade until they left. Hunching over the sink, he did his best to silence his sobs and force the tears away from his eyes. Eren coming back home had been both a blessing and a curse. On the one side, he got to see his son again for the first time in years and relive some old memories that he'd missed. Hearing his laughter, seeing those bright eyes, and marveling at how tall he'd gotten, it was all so dear to Grisha. Almost every night they'd relax in the living room after dinner and he'd feel the boy falling asleep--slumped against his shoulder just like he did when he was young and small. His little boy... How had he gone so long without seeing him? Just being able to hug him again made Grisha's heart ache. 

On the flipside, that all-encompassing love he held of his child reminded him of what he stood to lose. When Eren was gone, it was just Grisha and the two dogs. He was alone and had gotten used to it. The thought of dying wasn't as scary because he felt like nobody would be affected by it. Death was a natural part of the human condition so it didn't scare him. However, leaving behind someone that was scarred by his departure, now that was terrifying. 

With Eren home, there was someone that stood to lose something; someone that could be hurt by him selfishly throwing in the towel early and dying before his time was up. He had already ensured his son's future--left him the entire estate and made sure he did so without any unpaid dues. But now he's son's happiness was brought into question. And after seeing how he still held onto some of the lingering pain from Carla's death, Grisha wasn't sure if his boy could make it through losing him too.

Releasing a sigh, the man looked up at the photo of his wife that he kept mounted on the windowsill above the sink. "Who knew being a parent would be so confusing, right honey? You know he's starting to sound like you; no mental filter and all heart." Pausing when he heard the boys in the other room finish setting up, Grisha turned back to the picture. "I miss you Carla, every day. Love you hun. See you after dinner."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

Dinner passed by without any further discussion about the impending surgery taking place tomorrow afternoon. In fact, Eren did his best to avoid anything related to the subject as they spoke. The anxiety was clear in his body language even though his eyes gave nothing away. 'Just like his mother,' Grisha thought as he half-listened to his son. As he watched the boy, he couldn't help but think about how much more complicated this was now that he was back. It wasn't that he didn't want his son around; quite the opposite actually.

As the conversation carried on, Grisha found himself thinking about how much it was going to hurt when he had to say goodbye to his son; how much it was going to sting watching him leave for a second time without knowing when he'd come back. He had missed so much already and Grisha hated the idea of missing more. Swallowing hard on the nerves building in the back of his throat, the father glanced down at his watch. Eyes slightly widening at the time, he wiped his mouth with the napkin then sat it down next to his empty plate. Catching the action, Eren went silent.

"Dad?"

Looking up, Grisha smiled softly. "It's almost time to turn in. I've got to check in early for pre-op's and for a final physical."

"I'll do the dishes then and you can---"

"No, it's alright. I like doing the dishes. You go upstairs and clean off for bed. 'Kay?"

"Then how about I help you?" Levi offered, sensing that there was something else going on the Grisha wasn't telling them about.

"Alright," the father conceded. "That fine with you, kiddo?"

Nodding, Eren got up and gave his lover a kiss then hugged Grisha. "Don't stay up too late. Love you dad."

"Love you Eren." Grisha smiled; now almost sadly as he held onto the boys arms wrapped around his shoulders. "Alright. Get going. Can't have you half sleep behind the wheel tomorrow."

"Yeah. Night."

When Eren had left, Grisha sniffled once and adjusted his glasses before getting up. Taking the serving platter and his own used dishes in, he got to work putting away the leftovers before starting on the dishes that were already in the sink. Rolling up the sleeves of his grey wool cardigan then redoing his hair tie, Grisha remained quiet as Levi came in carrying the other plates, cups, forks, and knives. Watching the man closely, he could tell something was wrong; not from his body language but because of his eyes. Just like Eren, his father had expressive eyes that--even when they were controlling the facial reactions--a single look always gave them away.

Quietly taking a spot next to Grisha while assuming control of the task at hand, Levi began washing the the dirty dishes while the older man simply chuckled and began towel drying the ones that had been placed in the rack. It was almost like a conveyor line with the young man cleaning and the other drying and putting the items away. Working in total silence, Levi could tell that Grisha had something he wanted to talk to him about. He wouldn't have allowed him to help with the evening chores if he didn't. Waiting a little while longer, it wasn't until they were on the last couple of dishes that Grisha finally spoke.

"You'll look after him right? If something happens to me, you'll make sure Eren keeps going like normal."

Processing the words, Levi's brows furrowed slightly. "I'll take care of him but he won't be the same Grisha. He's your son and he loves you more than you know. He's done nothing but worry about you since he heard the news of your diagnosis. How could he go back to the way he was before if you die?"

"I understand that Levi but he's already suffered enough. Losing Carla was hard enough on the boy; I just don't want him hurting too much if I--"

"God, you two are exactly alike," the young professor groaned. Wiping his hands, Levi tossed the towel onto the counter before turning around sharply with his arms folded across his chest. "Yeah, Carla's death fucked him up. He watched his mother die and now he blames himself for it. What do you think losing you would do to him? I can't promise you shit Grisha when it comes to that. I'll do my absolute best to watch over him and make sure he's loved but I can't be your replacement. I can't do what you do because I'm not his father. Take it from someone who lost both of their parents, it's not easy and there's no getting over it; ever. If this is your way of making a clean break in the off-chance that you die on that table tomorrow, save it. If worrying over your son gives you the determination you need to survive, then I'll gladly oblige and make sure you go in there dreading the consequences your death may have. Eren needs you and that should be all you think about."

Shaking his head slowly, Grisha couldn't help but laugh at how well Levi had spun that around on him. "You really are Ben and Kuchel's kid. Got all the bark of your father and the bite from your mother."

"With all due respect Grisha, you haven't come close to seeing my bite and I doubt you want to."

"If it's anything like your moms, I think I'll pass." Putting away the cups, Grisha was quiet for another long moment as he thought about how to phrase his next question. "I'll do my best to make a full recovery. However, in the off-chance that they can't get it all or that it's spread to my bone marrow or bloodstream, I have one request."

"Fine, shoot."

Turning to face the young man, Grisha smirked. "I want to see my son get married." Laughing when Levi's eyes widened to the size of saucers with his mouth parting in shock, Grisha reclined against the counter opposite of him. "You think I can't see it, the way you look at him? If I had to guess, you guys are only a hop away from moving in together which means marriage isn't that far off."

"Even if that were the case, he's twenty-three and hasn't even gotten his degree yet."

"Then wait until the end of spring semester next year. If the cancer has spread to my bones or my bloodstream then I only have one good year left. After that it'll be buying time with chemo and then hospice. I want to see my boy married to the person he loves; that's been a dream of mine since the moment I first held him in my arms. Please Levi, could you do that for me?"

Frozen in place, Levi struggled to wrangle in his racing heart. This was far from what he had expected and he couldn't handle the sudden pressure on him to accept Grisha's request. Staring into the mans' deep moody brown eyes, he couldn't get a read on him or what he was thinking. For the first time in his life, Levi was left without a clue. Licking his lip then biting it as he shifted his weight from one leg to other, he asked Grisha to give him a moment.

Raking his hands through his hair, the young man mulled things over in his head while trying not to panic. Just a couple of days ago, he had promised himself to Eren; told him that, eventually, they would get hitched. But he didn't expect it to come knocking down his door three nights later. On the one hand, he loved Eren; adored him from the top of his head to the tips of his toes and would do anything to keep him. For Levi, the kid was it--he was the one, now and forever--and he shouldn't be afraid to commit himself to him. It was only a hypothetical plan in the off-chance that Grisha's surgery didn't catch everything. It wasn't like he was asking them to get married right then and there in the damn kitchen.

However, the flipside had Levi panicking because it was too soon. They had only started dating four months ago and, while they were an exclusive sealed deal couple, he didn't know if Eren was ready that level of commitment. He was already juggling work, his rocky personal life, and being a full-time student. Next semester was going to be even harder because he was going to be the managing editor of the Nexus and after that, he had to focus on completing his final courses with high marks so that he could graduate. It was a lot to handle and the idea of hampering him down with a marriage proposal because it was his dying father's wish would probably be the final straw to break the camels back. 

Levi had seen Eren during one of his panic attacks and had talked him down from crying himself into hyperventilation. But they had weathered it all and survived. Could they survive this too? If Grisha was as sick as he feared, could they follow through and do this for him? Could their relationship handle the strain and stress planning a wedding under such circumstances would subject it to? Through the fear and worrying that his mind was swimming in, Levi knew the answer was yes, they could survive it. There were bound to be rough patches and moments where they'd argue. But he would always love Eren and Eren would always love him and at the end of the day, their relationship was more important than what was bugging them. Even when they weren't together, they kept an eye on one another and made sure the other wasn't working themselves to death.

"Alright," Levi breathed, not believing what he was agreeing to. "Okay, I'll accept your request but on one condition."

"Which is?"

"You do everything in your power to beat this. Don't even think about giving up; not until they say you have three months left and they tell you to consider hospice. If this surgery doesn't catch everything, you take the chemo. If chemo doesn't work, then we book another surgery." Fighting against tears of both anger and his own personal pain, Levi struggled to continue as his voice cracked. "You have to give this your all because your son is worth that. You helped bring him into this fucking world so it should be your job to take care of him, love him, and protect him until he's out of his thirties and has his head on straight. Abandoning him any earlier is fucked up and...and...you just can't. Got it?"

Nodding with quiet tears of his own stinging at his eyes, Grisha smiled. "I promise I'll do everything I can and take every option available to me."

"Fine. Then you have your deal."

Laughing pitifully, the older man tilted his hand. "You make it sound like we're doing a drug deal or something. Marrying my kid can't be that terrifying. I mean, he's a handful and a half, I'll give you that. And he doesn't listen until he's gotten himself into trouble. But he's got a good heart and he's cared for you longer than he even knows."

"I know and it's not that I don't want to Grisha. It's just all happening so fast. He's young and has his whole life ahead of him. I don't want anything holding him back, even if it means him being gone for long periods of time while he goes out and travels the same way I did. I want him to have that experience too and a marriage could just bring all of that crashing down. I know Eren and I know how he works; he'd find someway to bog himself down with work and fussing over being a good husband."

"I understand that but I too know my son and I know that with you at his side, he'd feel more emboldened to take risks and enjoy his life. You two balance each other out and you encourage him to strive for things he never thought possible. When Eren left home, he was a sullen kid that tricked the world into thinking he was okay. But you saw past that and helped him work past his pain. When I saw him on my doorstep three days ago, he wasn't the same person." Shrugging away from the counter, Grisha took a couple steps forward and placed both his hands on Levi's shoulders. "That smile on his face was all you. Yeah, he was happy to see me and maybe the dogs but you were the one that taught him how to smile like that again. You two were tied together before any of us knew and, after all these years apart, you managed to find each other again and fall in love. If that's not a sign of something bigger at work here then I don't know what is."

Sighing, Levi gave up arguing with the man. He had already agreed to marry his son in the event of an unfavorable diagnosis. "Right, well I'm going to head up before Eren comes down wondering what's holding me up. And you have to sleep because you have a long day tomorrow. Remember, if you dare throw in the towel during that surgery I'll kick your ass back into the world of the living."

"You're going to make a terrifying son-in-law Levi."

"Yeah well it's your own fault for putting this on me so suddenly."

"I'm sure you'll live."

"I will and so will you." Smacking the older man on the back of his shoulder, Levi sighed a yawn. "Night Grisha. I'll see you in the morning."

"Night Levi. And thank you."

"Yeah yeah."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

Opening the bedroom door, Levi quietly padded across the room hoping not to wake up Eren or Chewy who was sleeping peacefully in the curve of Eren's bent knees. Slipping off his house shoes and shrugging off his hoodie, the man carefully slid into the bed; sighing happily once his tired body hit the soft mattress. Feeling a chill dance along the gentle breeze the ran through the room from the balcony doors that had been left ajar, Levi snuck closer to Eren. The kid was a living breathing heater that always ran hot whereas he was always cold. 'Guess we really do balance each other out,' he thought to himself while nudging Chewy to the other end of the bed. She was an adorable dog--no doubt about it--but she took up a ton of space for a chihuahua.

Rolling his eyes when the picky dog settled in the crook of his bent legs, Levi just shook his head before inching closer to Eren. Gently tugging him flush against him so that the boys' back was pressed to his chest, the young professor sank into the warmth the moment their bodies made contact. It was a feeling akin to coming home after a long day. Feeling that intense body heat encircled in his cool arms and hands was a gift in of itself. Pressing a kiss into the nape of Erens neck, Levi chided himself when the boy stirred from his sleep.

"Levi?" Eren groaned; his voice rough with sleep. "What took you so long?"

"Sorry, Grisha and I got caught up talking."

"Mmm," the brunette hummed as another kiss landed sweetly on his ear. "Well go to sleep. We got to wake up early."

"I know. Sorry for waking you up hun," Levi cooed as he kissed him one more time on his cheek before lying back down and wrapping himself around the warm body of his partner. "Night Eren. I love you."

"Love you too Levi."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like Eren, Levi has a playlist that reminds him of home. However, his is a plays a bit closer to the chest. So here, from me to you, is Levi's homecoming mix.
> 
> **The Quiet List**
> 
> -"Islands" by Sara Bareilles  
> -"I Of The Storm" by Of Monsters and Men  
> -"Summer Skin" by Death Cab For Cutie  
> -"I Will Follow You Into The Dark" by Death Cab For Cutie  
> -"What Sarah Said" by Death Cab For Cutie  
> -"Brothers On A Hotel Bed" by Death Cab For Cutie  
> -"Title And Registration" by Death Cab For Cutie  
> -"How To Be Dead" by Snow Patrol  
> -"Run" by Snow Patrol  
> -"Grazed Knees" by Snow Patrol  
> -"Same" by Snow Patrol  
> -"Where Does The Good Go" by Tegan and Sara  
> -"City Of Devils" by Yellowcard  
> -"How I Go" by Yellowcard (Benjamin Ackerman's Song)  
> -"I Don't Like It Like This" by The Radio Dept.  
> -"Livewire" by Oh Wonder  
> -"Landslide" by Oh Wonder  
> -"White Blood" by Oh Wonder  
> -"Postcard #17" by Jens Lekman  
> -"Treefingers" by Radiohead  
> -"How To Disappear Completely" by Radiohead  
> -"Motion Picture Soundtrack" by Radiohead  
> -"My Iron Lung" by Radiohead  
> -"Karma Police" by Radiohead  
> -"No Surprises" by Radiohead  
> -"Let Down" by Radiohead  
> -"Videotape" by Radiohead  
> -"Kid A" by Radiohead  
> -"Across The Ocean" by Azure Ray  
> -"Sleep" by Azure Ray  
> -"The Blower's Daughter" by Damien Rice  
> -"The Garden That You Planted" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Wayfaring Strangers" by Jack White  
> -"The Skye Boat Song" by Bear McCreary (Kuchel Ackerman's Song)  
> -"The Film Did Not Go 'Round" by Nada Surf


	21. Point Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Australian Open at Bells Beach heats up as the prelims close and the final thirty surfers compete to make it into the top ten. After making his comeback debut, Marco feels the heat as the final round approaches.
> 
>  
> 
> \---AUTHOR'S NOTE!: Hey ya' and welcome to chapter 21 of One Of Many Waves. Holy crap, I never thought I'd reach this point and I'd like to take this opportunity to thank all of my readers--new and old. I may be doing this just to make sure my head doesn't explode with all these stories crammed into it, but it's you guys that make it worth it. So thank you.
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter because it focuses on the surfing and, as an avid rider myself, there's nothing that gets my heart racing like a good wave. I hope you all catch the fever too because it's exhilarating. ;)
> 
> Stay lovely and stay freaky chickadee's!
> 
> -Mars <3

It was unbelievable how many people had made the pilgrimage to Bells Beach for the ASP-Billabong Australian Open. Huddled together on the bluffs above the narrow beach were cabana's, tents, and huts for the hosts of the various radio shows to broadcast from. Near the road's end were different food trucks lined up to service the good two to three thousand people that had shown up. Since it was an uncharacteristically warm sunny day--which was a welcomed change from the wet Aussie winter--live music played from a large bandstand that had been set up that morning before the female surfers paddled out for the deciding run that would select the top ten women heading to the finals. Among them was Ymir in first place; as to be expected.

Strolling along the warm sand wearing a plain white t-shirt and navy swimming trunks with his sandals jammed into his back pocket, Jean wandered through the crowd with Krista at his side. Both of them were full-fledged members of the Independent back in Santa Barbara but only the photographer had been asked to work while on his mini vacation. The prospect of featuring two champion surfers from the area on their front page had the senior staff members at the publication practically salivating. And who better to capture the activity than the fiance of one of athletes?

Snapping pictures of the festivities, Jean couldn't help but relax and enjoy himself despite technically being on the clock. The atmosphere that had taken over the beach was both mellow and charged with the crowd roaring to life whenever someone paddled out. There was a mix of all age groups delighting in the competition. From young parents with their children to seventy-year-old men reliving their golden years by watching the athletes conquer the monster swells, everyone from every walk of life had been brought together by the event.

Glancing up at the jumbo screen elevated on stilts behind the 103.3 THRILL FM radio booth, the photographer watched the scores come in for the second batch of male surfers who had just completed their run. In the pack of ten was Emory "Buck" Mael who had a natural flair for aerial stunts, Yoshi Eto aka "The Sundance Kid" with all the power of a rocket at full blast, and Marco's old rival Lulani Kahananui who happened to be a native from Oahu's North Shore. To say Jean was concerned would be an understatement.

In the three and half years Marco had been gone, his competitors had been ramping up their game winning enough titles to make the blonde's head spin. However, it was still nothing compared to the amount of wins the Bott's had garnered together and the moment they set foot on Bells Beach a week ago, the others immediately put a target on their backs. The siblings were the team to beat; always had been and always will be. And with Marco's awe-inspiring performance an hour ago that had placed him first in the top ten advancing to the final round, it was clear that the hiatus hadn't taken his edge away. Quite the contrary actually. 

All the radio hosts seemed to be saying the same thing. Marco was twice as lethal and was in better form than he had ever been. Gone was that absurdly talented cocky kid. All that blazing energy from his youth that would cost him points on form and execution had been streamlined into a fierce masterclass athlete. Resurrected from his self-imposed exile, the man was unbeatable; a force of nature no one thought had expected to see, especially after an accident like his. And with both eyes trained on the goal ahead, there was no way to stop him from getting what he wanted.

Looking down as her phone vibrated, Krista glanced at the screen then slowly smiled. "Hey sweetie," the petite blonde chirped as she greeted what had to have been Ymir on the other end. "Yeah I was watching the whole time and damn babe, you looked good out there. It sucks that you had to go straight over to the radio booth for an interview." Pausing again, Krista stopped walking and held a finger up when Jean asked what was wrong. "Sure, I don't mind talking to them. You finally going to introduce me as your girl?" Another pause. "Babe, I was just teasing. I'll head over there now. Just let me tell Jean."

"What's going on, Kris?" the photographer finally said.

"Ymir's being interviewed for ESPN and she wants me to join her."

"Oh. That's cool."

"Yeah. It'll probably take a little bit but we'll be over by the broadcasters corner if you need us. Text me if something happens, 'Kay?"

"Yup, will do."

With a smile, Krista started heading toward the large cabana that the ESPN team was camped out in. Disappearing into the crowd, she left Jean to his own devices. So, with nothing else to do, he started taking pictures of the people hanging out on the beach while the next set of surfers got ready to paddle out. He was in front of the electronic scoreboard as the final marks from the previous group appeared. Looking away from the friendly German shepherd and its owner whom he was snapping shots of, Jean gazed up at the screen while muttering the names of the athletes and their placement. Emory Mael had made it into the top ten by the skin of his teeth and nabbed eighth place. He would have been higher if Yoshi hadn't taken fifth and Lulani with second.

Staring at the scores, the photographer's eyes went wide when he saw that Lulani's score and Marco's were only separated by a tenth of a point for execution and a full point on personal style. His fiance had almost been awarded a perfect ten in all categories. How could anyone come close to that? Stuck in a state of stupor and utter disbelief, he hadn't noticed the person standing directly next to him. It wasn't until the man chuckled at the blonde's muttering that Jean jumped to attention.

"I guess I still need to work on my aerials. Although," the tall man beside him grinned, "you seem to be pretty impressed by my score. What do you think?"

Furrowing his brows as his mind drew a blank, Jean looked the man up and down with a scrutinizing eye. "Who are you?"

Pointing up, he smirked. "The guy in second place." Watching as the blonde's eyes widened, he laughed again. "Sorry, most people recognize me right off the bat. I'm Lulani Kahananui."

"Jean Kirstein," Jean gawked as he shook hands with the surfer. "Some of the swells looked like they were a real bitch to handle but you did pretty well."

"Yeah, there some shit ones in the line today but it wasn't anything we couldn't handle."

"I guess not considering you placed second."

"Yeah but not first. It's never good news when there's a Bott in the line-up." Eyeing Jean's camera, Lulani arched a questioning brow. "You with the press?"

"Huh?" Jean blinked then glanced down at the device hanging from his neck. "Oh, yeah. Well, kinda. I'm only here to shoot the final line-up for the paper I work for."

"Which would be...?"

"The Independent. It's based in Santa Barbara."

"Interesting. So you must know the Bott siblings since that's where they've been hiding out for the past like, four years or so."

"How do you know that?" the photographer asked now more on edge than he was confused.

Spotting Marco closing in on them, a mischievous smile danced across his lips while his deep blue eyes flickered back to Jean. "Well I could tell you or you could ask the man himself."

"Jean!" Marco smiled from a few feet away before noticing who his fiance was talking to. "Lani?"

"Good to see you too, Marco," the man offered back with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "Saw you out on the water today and fuck man, you've still got it. The judges were practically pissing themselves when you did that rodeo flip. Ya' know, you could try making it easier for the rest of us."

Turning to peek at the board, Marco's lips split into a wry grin. "Why would I do that? You don't look like you need any of my pity with that score. Nice job." Looking back to see Jean staring at him wearing a befuddled expression, the brunette suddenly remembered his manners. "Jean, this is Lulani Kahananui. He's an old friend of mine from the North Shore."

"He knows. Or kinda does," Lulani quipped. "How do you two know each other?"

Without batting a lash, the brunette took Jean's hand in his. "We're engaged actually."

"Fucking hell, really?" When his friend nodded and lifted their joined hands to show off his platinum band, Lulani dramatically arched back with a drawn out 'what' before returning to the conversation. "Holy shit, that's crazy. Never thought you were the type."

"Guess I just needed the right person in my life."

"It would appear so. And here I thought we could hook up for drinks later. Whatever, I'm happy for you two."

"Wait, what?" the blonde chimed, his gaze snapping between the two men. "You two were a thing?"

Answering before Marco could, Lulani smirked. "Yeah, but it was never really official. We spent a lot of time on the same circuits together and we were usually booked in the same hotel so it just kinda happened. But it's cool. Ya' know, you two look good together; got a good contrast thing going on." Pausing as he heard his name being called to the THRILL radio booth, Lulani shot Jean a final wink then waved goodbye to Marco. "Gotta go; duty calls. See you in the line-up Bott. I'm looking forward to handing the Flying Hawaiian his own ass."

As the man vanished, Marco sighed though it did nothing to take away the edge. "So that was Lani."

"You guys fucked?" Jean said disbelievingly as he watched the tall surfer move through the crowd.

"It was just a casual thing way back when I first went pro. We'd known each other for a while and did it to blow off steam."

"You guys fucked...." the blonde breathed still looking into the distance.

"God Jean, it's not that big of a deal." Rolling his eyes with a slightly embarrassed and partially annoyed grin, the brunette groaned and pulled his fiance close; making sure that they were looking at each other. "Jean, who am I engaged to?"

"Me...?"

"Don't say it like it's a question. Look, we're together and what I had with Lulani was a long time ago. 'Kay?"

Shaking his head, the photographer agreed. "Yeah. Sorry, it just threw me off balance because he just said it like it was nothing."

"Yeah, that's typical Lani. You'll get used to it since he's going to be on the same circuit as me all summer and winter."

"Seriously?"

Nodding, Marco chuckled. "Babe, the guy is one of the biggest names in pro surfing right now. Him and Eto have been at the center of the community since Ymir and I left. Of course they're going to be on the same track as me."

"Sorry I didn't know." Taking the brunette's hand in his, he jerked his head toward the ESPN booth. "Want to meet up with the girls and grab something to eat? We could watch the last group in the water while looking over the frames I got of you."

"Sounds like a plan. I think I may have splashed down a little hard on my last aerial."

"Then that's where we'll start." Kissing him sweetly on the lips, Jean started leading them in the general direction of the broadcasters corner. "Come on, let's get moving before they paddle out."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

In an attempt to escape the prying eyes of the press and some of the more hyper fans so that they could just mellow out, the Bott siblings and their company sought relaxation further away from the bleachers perched at the top of the red clay cliffs. Slipping into their casual gear, they put on their aviators and changed up their hair to make them less noticeable. Raking all of his wavy brown hair over to the right side while his sister pulled hers up into a damp ballerina bun atop her head, Marco and Ymir were just as inconspicuous as the next person. And since the majority of the people present loved the sun and surf just as much as them, they weren't the only two with freckles in the crowd.

Spotting an old friend by the booth for the local news station, the siblings headed over with food and drinks in hand. Waving at them from his hammock that had been set up was fellow big wave rider, Guillermo Contreras. Fondly known by them as "Gil", the man was just as tall as Marco--maybe just a shave over six-three--with jaw length curly black hair, dark moody brown eyes, and a deep tan that rivaled the Bott's. Relaxing in his green floral fabric hammock, the Oaxaca native waved lazily in their direction; his sunglasses on and hair tucked into a messy "ponytail" with sand still clinging to the wet tendrils.

"Ey," Guillermo called as the siblings made it over the dunes. "Welcome to my own slice of paradise. Drinks are in the coolers."

Nodding to the audio techs at the radio booth as they passed, Marco smirked. "You shouldn't be drinking after a big ride Gil. It's bad for the system."

Snorting a laugh, the man tilted his glasses down to eye his friend. "How many years have we known each other? You know that's a pointless battle. Besides, I'm celebrating making it into the finals."

"Just leave the man be Marco," Ymir groaned as she walked by, bumped fists with Gil as she congratulated him then grabbed a beer of her own. Flopping down on the towel she had spread out--taking a moment to rub her feet into the warm sand--she opened the can of Modelo. "It's not like we're riding any more waves today. Just chill dude and stop being such a straight arrow."

"Whatever. anyways, Guillermo, this is my fiance Jean. Jean, this is Guillermo Contreras," Marco said as if it were old news while he grabbed a drink from the cooler.

"Fiance huh," Gil mused as he spied the photographers engagement band. "I was wondering why you were wearing a ring on your finger. Makes sense now." Lurching forward in the hammock, the man extended his hand out. "Nice to meet ya' Jean."

Shaking Gil's hand, the blonde nodded with a pleasant smile. "Nice to meet you too. Congrats on making it to the final."

"Thanks man. So long as I'm having fun, I'm good, ya' know."

Cackling over in her corner with Krista spread out next to her, Ymir sighed as she slumped back onto her elbows. "I forgot how much of a beach bum you are."

"I don't know how," Krista smirked though there was no malice in it. "This is the guy that doesn't even paddle into a wave. He just lets it drag him in until it forces him to stand up."

"How is that even possible?" Jean asked but his question went unanswered when Ymir cut into the conversation.

"Hey Gil, have you seen Fran and Ell? I know they already did their ride but I haven't seen they since."

Pursing his lips, Guillermo looked up pensively toward the sky. "I'm pretty sure they're around here somewhere. I doubt they'd miss watching Marcel paddle out."

"Who?" Jean asked as spun to face Marco.

Rolling his head to the side from where he was laying spread eagle on the towel, Marco answered. "Francis and Eloise Aude. They're the only other brother-sister duo in the pro circuit and their good friends of ours."

"And who's Marcel?"

This time, it was Ymir who spoke. "Marcel Dionne is a Canadian surfer that was shit talking Marco and Fran the last time they paddled out before we went on hiatus. The guy has a habit of running his mouth and hitting on the wrong people."

Guillermo struggled to stifle his snarky grin and accompanying laughter. "He tried so hard to get in your pants Ymir at the last Sydney Aussie Open. Fuck, that was hilarious when he bought you that second drink and you just walked off without him."

"Well it's his fault for assuming he could charm his way into my pants, especially after I had already told him I was taken and gay."

It was strange but Jean had never been so lost before. Little by little, pieces of the Bott's past was being revealed. But the more he learned, the more he was confused. Keeping track of all the names and who they were to Marco and Ymir made his head spin. Even more impressive was how the two kept dropping names like it was nothing; chuckling about the good old days when they slammed back drinks with some of the biggest names in the field.

When the starting horn blared on the beach to signal the final round of the day, Guillermo, Ymir, and Marco all went silent and watched the ten men in the water. The first one to ride was none other than Marcel Dionne. Tall, shockingly fair for a surfer, and crowned with long wavy golden hair, the man looked every bit the haughty athlete he was purported to be. However, his talent wasn't something to be scoffed at. Nailing all his technical pieces and missing only two marks for personal style and a half point for execution, the man came in at third knocking everyone down a notch. But no one in Jeans' group seemed to be intimidated by it; even Guillermo who had been pushed into fourth place.

"Guess I got my work cut out for me," the Oaxacan sighed lazily as he reclined back into his hammock with both arms folded behind his head and legs crossed over one another. "Hey, I was wondering if you'd all be down for drinks later tonight."

"Aren't we already drinking?" Marco quipped.

Tossing a wadded up napkin at his head, Guillermo smirked. "Asshole. Seriously though, we should chill and catch up. I haven't seen you two in a millennia and Fran and Ell would be down to kick it, no doubt."

Glancing to Ymir who shrugged, the brunette rolled his eyes, though playfully. "Sure, let's do it. But shit man, when did you turn into such a sentimental?"

"Probably around the same time you decided to calm down and get hitched."

"Fair enough. Anyways, how does eight o'clock at our place sound?"

"Sounds like a plan. I'll send out a blast to all the necessary people."

"No Marcel," Ymir commanded from where she was laying on the towel, palms up and sunglasses on to block the light from her tired eyes. "I can't handle that guy right now."

"You really think I'd invite him, Mimi?" Gil posed; sneaking in his nickname for the woman.

"No but shits changed so much in the last three years so who knows anymore."

"Right," the man rolled his eyes. "But yeah, eight's good."

"Sweet," Marco nodded before laying back down. Resting his head on Jeans' thigh, he slipped his shades back over his eyes. "Guess it's a date then."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Like clockwork, guests began rolling in around 8:00 p.m.; mere moments after Ymir had placed the food order from their favorite Chinese restaurant in the area and Marco had set up the playlist so that he didn't have to go back and manually select songs. It was nothing compared to the parties they put on back in Santa Barbara. Low key with only thirty people in attendance at max, this was an intimate kick-back with only their closest friends from the circuit invited.

In no time at all, Jean had already been introduced to everyone as Marco's fiance. Likewise, the photographer had come to learn of how respected the Bott's were. Despite being one of the youngest surfers there, Marco had blazed a trail and created many tricks and maneuvers that nobody had dared to do before him. Father of the legendary Floating Dive entry and the Reverse Bell Slide Rail Ride, his fearlessness, innovation, and determination to push the boundaries had earned him the respect and admiration for his fellow big wave riders.

Likewise, Ymir was one of the few female surfers that had been given the opportunity to ride with the men in numerous competitions. Dubbed "the Lady Shred," she was a living legend much like her brother. The first and only person in their group to successfully ride a sixty foot monster at Mavericks as well as the only woman to ever win the prestigious competition, Ymir had become the idol of a great many surfers--male and female, young and old. When the Bott's had vanished from the lineup's years ago, copycats attempted to replicate their moves and technique but nothing was quite like the original. Everyone at the kick-back had some kind of story to tell about Marco and Ymir; about the first time they watched the siblings ride like it were some spiritual experience. And in some aspects, Jean could understand what the other riders kept going on about.

Looking back on the day he had first laid eyes on Marco, Jean could still feel the tightness in his chest as the air left his lungs. The way the brunette glided across the water was otherworldly. 'I wondered sometimes if that was my son on the water or some ocean spirit,' the blonde recalled Aulani once saying. Looking at his fiance--watching his face glisten with a bright smile that brought his dimples into existence and narrowed the corners of his eyes--Jean couldn't help but wonder from time to time if the man before him were real or just a figment of his imagination. There were times when he was as human as the rest of them and then moments when it were as though he were some ethereal creature from another world; flawless and elegant.

Taking generous sips from his third beer while attempting to keep up with Guillermo and their conversation about the effect Jaws had on Montauk, Jean hadn't noticed Lulani entering through the front door. Clapping hands with Francis Aude before giving Eloise a warm hug, the man was just as popular as the hosts of the party. Dressed down in a pair of slim distressed antique wash jeans, a white scoop neck tee, and two long leather straps with a shark tooth and a turtle hanging from the necklaces, he looked years younger than his twenty-six years of age. With his various Hawaiian tattoo's visible up both his arms and one planted right on the nape of his neck, it were as if he was the opposite of Marco; the "bad boy" to his "boy scout" as Eloise had put it as she knocked back a shot of tequila.

Spying the photographer mingling on the patio right outside the living room slider with his impressive blue eyes, Lulani closed the space between them. Placing a hand on his shoulder, the surfer chuckled when Jean tensed at the sudden contact. Expecting to see Marco when he turned around, the blonde's smile fell a little--replaced with a subtle unease--when his amber gaze met the oceanic pools belonging to his fiance's former fling.

"I was hoping to run into you again," Lulani grinned like some predatory feline. "Mind grabbing a drink with me?"

Hesitating, Jean knew that the man didn't pose any threat to him but something about the look in his eyes put him on edge. "Uh, sure."

"I'll be excusing myself then," Eloise murmured with wide eyes and a little barely-there smile as she vacated the premises.

Watching as the woman left, Lulani jerked his head toward the outdoor seating area which was currently empty. Everyone else was either playing beer pong, chatting in small groups inside, or hanging out in the farther reaches of the backyard on the lounge chairs by the pool. As they walked toward the couches, Lani grabbed a forty ounce bottle of Asahi--snapping the cap off on the edge of the grill--and a handful of grapes from the fruit bowl that had been put out with the food spread. 

Popping a red grape into his mouth with a happy grin, the man flopped back onto the nearest couch. Folding one of his legs loosely over the knee of the other, he motioned for Jean to join him. Just like Marco, there was something playful--mischievous almost--about the way his blue eyes danced about behind those long black eyelashes. There was a devious tilt to the way his smile hung on those full lips as they parted gently to reveal his perfectly white teeth.

"You don't have to look so nervous Jean," Lulani smirked as the blonde sat down opposite of him. "I'm not going to nail you to a cross or jump your bones. You probably get enough of that action from Marco."

Knowing that he'd just get even more shit if he blushed or acted shyly, the photographer fell into the same behavior he showed while hanging out with Eren. "Maybe I do but it's not too bad," he shrugged.

"Bet you do a good job of keepin' him on his toes too." Laughing a little, the surfer settled into his spot; eyeing the man in front of him carefully before speaking again. "So you guys are engaged. That's pretty cool. Never thought he had it in 'im to be honest."

"And why's that?"

"Didn't seem like the type to slow down or put another person before himself."

"We're talking about Marco, right?" Jean laughed shortly while wearing an expression of skepticism.

Rolling his head to the side as his grin softened. "Yeah, the one and the same. Guess you wouldn't know about this since it was before you guys met but the guy wasn't always as accommodating as he is now. Back when we first went pro, surfing was all he thought about. It was like he'd die if he wasn't in the water every morning. He'd even get pissy if we were late paddling out. Pretty hilarious shit when you look back on it."

"I really can't picture that to be honest. I always thought he was mellow and easy-going."

"Oh he was, but there'd be hell to pay if he missed his morning and evening rides. I remember this one time when he was like, twenty I think and I had just turned nineteen, we were boarded together in the same room for the Huntington Beach invitational and he woke me up at the fuckin' crack of dawn to go out and surf. I was just like, 'dude, we're already here for a surfing competition. How are you this amped in the morning?' Literally, it was the only thing he thought about back in the day. Sometimes I wondered if he got off on it; still do to be honest."

"Yeah, I wonder that too," Jean laughed then quieted down. "Why're you telling me this?"

"Why not? What, you thought I'd be that bitchy ex that tries to sabotage your relationship?"

"Well I'm only going off of my own personal experiences."

"My deepest condolences," Lulani smirked; the softness in his smile reaching his eyes. "To be honest," he said lowly as he looked down at the drink in his hand. "I'm a little jealous. I couldn't get him to relax or take a break from what he was doing; not in the ten years that we've known each other have I been able to do that. I thought he'd be the same headstrong idiot I knew back in high school but he's changed since the last time we saw each other and I know that you're part of the reason why."

"I wouldn't say that," the blonde mumbled while shifting in place anxiously.

"Yeah, well I would."

Looking up, Jean searched the mans deep blue eyes only to find something there that he hadn't expected to see. "Do you...do you still like him?" he said without even thinking.

Without breaking the gaze, Lani gave him a half smile that hardly reached the corners of his lips. "It's hard to let go when you've known the person for so long. Marco never saw me the way I saw him and I was fine with that, I guess. But it was an unrequited love and eventually I couldn't take it anymore. But, like always, he beat me to the punch and ended things when he started dating Kitty. Lot of good that did 'im," Lani finished, gritting his teeth at the last part. "You know that chick was with him for four years, led him along while sleeping around behind his back, and then dumped him right before the Mavericks invitational. It's probably why he wiped out so hard. Marco never falls off his board; even in shitty waters, he's always had a firm grip on his board."

Licking his lips, Jean cleared his throat. "I'm not choosing sides here but apparently there was a lot more to their relationship than just that. They fucked each other up and I think it got to them both."

Clicking his tongue, the surfer rolled his eyes while looking away. "Whatever. She's a witch in my book. You don't fuck other guys behind someones back." Going silent for a long moment, Lulani turned his gaze back to the blonde. "Don't hurt him, ya' hear. Marco's a good man and he deserves to be happy. Take care of him for me. 'Kay?"

Jean nodded. "I will. I promise I won't hurt him."

"Better not."

"I won't," the blonde smiled knowingly. He could tell just from a single glance that Lulani still loved Marco; he could see the longing in his eyes and the pain of knowing that he'd never have him. So the man had to settle for the second best option, friendship. It was strange, Jean couldn't help but relate since for a while he was under the assumption that Marco and Ymir were a thing. "I promise I'll take care of Marco; won't let him overwork himself or do anything stupid that'll put him at risk."

Allowing himself one last moment of anguish, Lani pushed his own hurt feelings aside and smiled as warmly as he could manage. "Good. I wish you two all the best and I look forward to embarrassing you both at your wedding."

"Dude, you don't know a thing about me. How are possibly going to humiliate me?"

"I've got all summer man," Lulani grinned; the mischief returning to his bronzed face. "I already know that you'll be with Marco for the majority of the season so it's only a matter of time."

"Yeah well good luck. It took Marco a month to get me to talk to him--"

"And here you are talking to me like it's nothing only hours after meeting." Laughing when Jean slumped back into his seat with a quiet 'fuck', the man bit his lip. "Like I said, only a matter of time."

"God, and I thought Ymir was a handful."

"You'll be fine. Just roll with it."

"Yeah, right."

\----------------------------------------------------------------

The sound of rain battering against the glass ceiling panels tore Jean away from a deep sleep. It had intruded his dreams, filling his subconscious mind with anxiety that bubbled into a full-blown panic. Lunging forward as the newly birthed nightmare freed him from its cold grasp, he sat up; gasping desperately for air as he stared down at both fists that had gone white in the knuckles from tension. Wiping the sweat away from his forehead, the blonde took a moment to reclaim his breaths while the world slowly came back in around him.

Glancing to the clock, a silent groan escaped his lips when he read the time. It was only 6:30 but, since the competition started in an hour and a half, he didn't have enough time to sleep in; or at least try to. However, the prospect of falling back asleep was banished when he looked up and saw the rain pouring down. Mouth ajar and eyes alight with silent horror, a chill rushed over him. 'They're not going to make them paddle out in this weather, will they?' That was when it occurred to him that Marco was nowhere to be seen.

For a long moment, Jean sat in bed wondering where the brunette could've ran off to. Grabbing his thick woolen charcoal gray cardigan, he slipped his arms through the holes as he slid off the mattress. Jean stood in silence as he thought where Marco was more likely to be in this kind of situation. If they were at home, he'd either be in the hammock attached to the back porch or sitting on his favorite wicker chair on the front porch. Biting his lip, the photographer decided on the back since it had a better view of the coastline which was something his partner always gravitated toward.

Quietly making his way down the stairs--treading as lightly as possible as he walked past Ymir's room--Jean's fingers ghosted over the handrail of the stairwell banister while his feet barely touched the polished wooden steps in muted taps. Turning into the living room, he crossed the large space without a sound, entering the kitchen then the small connecting hall where the laundry room was located. Hand on the knob of the backdoor, he opened it slowly so that it wouldn't squeak or shudder as it usually did. When he stepped onto the back porch, there, like he imagined, sat Marco on an old adirondack chair with one knee pulled up to his chest--his chin resting atop it with both eyes fixed on the expanse before him.

"It started around four this morning," Marco spoke, his voice low and dim as he studied the intensity of the rain. He knew why Jean was there and what was going through his head because it was the same thing he was thinking. "The event organizers called the house around five. We're still paddling out."

Feeling his heart plummet and his stomach twist into a knot, Jean sat down on the chair next to his fiance. Taking the mans' tanned hand in his, he massaged small circles into the back of it with his eyes down. "Will you be alright out there?" Head jerking up as the thunder of a large wave breaking across the shore grabbed his attention, Jean's chest tightened. "How can they let you guys compete in this? Someone could get smacked off their board and drown."

"They're having us go one by one instead of doing it derby style in case someone does wipe out. With less people in the water it makes it easier on the lifeguards."

"That doesn't change anything. This is dangerous weather and those waves are huge."

Silence hung between them as Marco weighed his next words. Tightening his hold on Jeans' hand, he whispered, "Do you think I can do it?"

Turning, the blonde looked at his partner with confusion peppering his expression. "What?"

"I don't care about winning or placing for the Tahiti Open in Teahupo'o or the Hossegor Invitational. I would give all of it up willingly if you thought this run was too much for me."

"Marco..."

"I can't make this decision on my own, baby. Not anymore I can't because there's too much riding on it," Marco admitted, his voice trembling and cracking with the weight of his own anxiety. "What I want is to come home to you. I want to wake up tomorrow morning and see you lying next to me. I want to see my mom and dad on our wedding day. I want see Ymir finally ask Krista to marry her and tease her about how it took them an eternity to finally get around to it. The last time I paddled out in waters that wild, I almost didn't come back. So, if you don't think I can handle this ride, tell me. I need you on this one."

Gazing into those deep brown eyes that were as unruly as the ocean, Jean choked on his words. For a moment, he couldn't speak, couldn't think or move even. What he could do was see the fear in his lovers eyes; watch as the nightmares from his past came back to life behind his rich copper irises. All the light had drained from him and was replaced with apprehension; the doubt that he wouldn't come back and would be swallowed up by that vengeful surf that roared across the shore.

Yet beneath the fragility and fear, Jean could see strength. He could see the promise of another day; another sunrise and sunset. It was true that one could not predict the changing weather. But the same could be said for their future. Nothing was guaranteed. Nothing could be taken for granted because it could so easily be stripped away faster than a candle being snuffed in the dead of night. Even so, Jean believed in Marco. He believed that he would come back to him without fail.

Reaching up to frame his fiance's freckled face with both hands, Jean steadied his heart and found his voice. "You can do this Marco. I know you're scared and so am I. But this is nothing like Mavericks. In the months we've been together I've seen you grow each day. You're smarter now; more careful and skilled. If there's anyone that can conquer this and in shitty weather, it's you. The ocean's a part of you, no matter how much either of us want to deny it."

"And if I fall?"

"You won't." Kissing Marco's forehead, Jean closed his eyes and whispered, "I won't let this storm take you from me."

Closing his eyes too, Marco took a deep breath before releasing it along with all his fears and troubles. "I'll come back to you Jean. I promise."

"I know."

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Like the weather, the energy of the crowd had changed when the rain swept through Melbourne with all the fury of a wrathful ghost. Pelting the coast with heavy droplets, the spectators were more reserved--pensive almost--as the surfers took to the waters. Cheering only when the athlete made it back to shore, they seemed to be just as nervous as the men and women competing.

First to take to the monster swells were the women. Never before had Jean witnessed such a show of athleticism as the riders carved the face of each wave like it were nothing; like they weren't riding a thirty foot behemoth that could crush them faster than he could blink. There came a wild untamed burst of noise as Ymir claimed first place; winning by a mile despite having twisted her ankle on her last aerial. Exhausted, pink in the face from the exertion, and heaving for air, she collapsed to her knees with her face in her hands when the judges submitted their final scores. 

Racing to her side, Krista ran across the sand dunes separating them before coming to a skidding halt as she dropped to the ground and collected her woman into her loving arms. Kissing every inch of her tanned freckled face, the petite blonde beamed brightly as tears streaked her face. Nobody would have guessed that the infallible, indestructible Ymir Bott had been a nervous wreck earlier that morning. No one would have believed that she had come close to dropping out--to giving up her spot out of fear the moment she set foot on that beach right as a raging twenty foot monster wave crashed down causing the earth to tremble beneath their feet. But instead of letting it control her, the brunette buried her uncertainties in the sand and paddled out with all the gusto of a freedom fighter and came back victorious.

Embracing her brother in an airtight hug, they basked in the joyous moment but only briefly. Because of the nature of the storm, the mens portion had already begun the moment they announced the winner of the women's group. And since Marco had come in first during the prelims, he went last in the final round. Holding onto her hand, his fingers wove tightly into Ymir's as a hard wave smacked the shore as it broke--almost devouring Lulani who was fighting to keep the water in check.

Tracking his friends' movements, his heart lurched when he caught the slight jerk in Lani's knee. The exhaustion was starting to kick in and he had just entered the aerial portion of his run. Fighting past the pain in his joints and the cracking in his spine, the young Hawaiian threw himself into his tricks, carving the water with elegance and precision. But despite the show he put on, Marco could see the fatigue. It was written all over his face as every second stretched on. What must have been minutes felt like an eternity as Lulani wrestled each crest and bent it to his will. 'He's really something else,' the brunette smirked fondly as his eyes followed his friend gliding through the tube of a colossal wave before riding back in at the sound of the horn.

Jogging as quickly as he could up the shore to avoid being struck by a breaking wave, Lulani raked the stray hairs of his dark hair back into the messy bun that had started to come loose over his right shoulder. Eyes fixed on the scoreboard, relief washed over him as the marks came in. Earning four tens and three nines with a nine and a half for innovation, he moved into first place with a rather comfortable gap separating him from the rest of the pack. With both eyes closed, he smiled with his head tilted to the sky as the rain painted his face; washing away the stress and pain.

"You were amazing out there," Marco said from where he had been standing which, as luck would have it, was only a couple of feet away from the kiss-and-cry. "I don't think I've ever seen you surf like that."

Rolling his head to the side, Lulani's oceanic gaze fell on Marco; spotting something he didn't like lurking behind those pools of deep moody brown. "Don't you start bitchin' out on me now, Marco. I see that look in your eyes," he said, hitching his board under his arm before marching up to his friend; their faces only inches apart. "I busted my ass out there because I wanted to know I gave it my everything if you beat me so don't you dare get caught up in your head. Focus and go out there and tear ass. Got it?"

Chuckling, Marco smirked. "You really want me to beat you that much?"

"Maybe." Stepping closer, Lulani caught sight of Jean watching them. "You were my hero, even after you took that hit at Mavericks. So get the fuck out there and prove to me that I wasn't wrong about you."

"Lani..."

"Shut up."

Shrugging his board back up into the crook of his arm, Lulani left Marco standing there speechless. There was so much he wanted to tell that freckled idiot. So much that he wanted to say because part of him was afraid that he might not come back; he himself had barely made it back to shore after that last wave. The words 'I love you' kept swirling through his head and his heart screamed as Marco's number was called to the hold line.

Cursing himself while simultaneously apologizing to Jean, Lani spun back around, dropped his board and grabbed Marco's face with his trembling hands as he pulled him in for a sudden kiss. Shocked beyond words, the brunette stood there completely stunned as the familiar warmth of his ex's lips pressed into his. It was quick yet long enough that he could feel the unbridled heat and need behind it. Before Marco could push him away, Lulani backed off--wearing an expression somewhere between grief and compassion.

"What...?"

"You always were oblivious Marco," Lani laughed pitifully; biting his lip as the announcer called for Marco to approach the starting line. "If I have a bruise on my face when you come back, just know that it was probably Jean's handiwork."

"And you'd deserve it." Swallowing hard, the brunette breathed out. "Talk to you later?"

"I'd rather not. That was my way of letting you go. Don't make me go through it a second time. Just go do your thing. 'Kay?"

"'Kay."

"Give 'em hell Marco," Lani smiled that devastating smile that used to make the brunette weak in the knee's. "And long live the Flying Hawaiian."

Nodding as the man picked up his board, waved, and left, Marco couldn't feel more uneasy than he did. He thought they had ended things with a clean break when they went their separate ways. But from the look in Lulani's eyes, he was wrong to assume that the man had let go of what they had as easily as he did. Yet, when he looked up into the stands and saw Jean, everything faded away and time slowed. He didn't see anger or judgement in those glittering amber eyes. Instead Marco saw reassurance, courage, and devotion. He hadn't been deterred by the surprise kiss one bit. Mouthing the words 'I love you,' the blonde flashed him that perfect playful smile that sparked a fire in his heart. Returning the gesture, Marco sighed out as he was called to the line once more

The crowd roared and hundreds of fans across the stands rose to their feet as Marco approached the starting line. Despite his wipe out years ago, he had cemented his name in the community and, after his disappearance, had become a legend. Seemingly born of the ocean and sun, he was gifted from the start with an innate talent to read the surf and sense what was coming. No one could move quite like him or pull off the tricks he did; many didn't even dare because they were so impossible that only their creator could pull off the maneuver. This ride was less of comeback and more of a homecoming. 

The ocean was a part of Marco and he was a part of it. Even during his hiatus, he often dreamt of gliding across the crystal waves; could feel the spray on his face and taste the salt on his lips. He could feel the rise and fall of the water in his bones and the foam rushing over his fingertips. As much as it had burned him in the past, the ocean was his first love and still had a choke-hold on his heart; refusing to let go even after hurting him like it had at Mavericks.

Captivated by the siren song of the waves roaring along the coast, Marco readied his board; still stuck in a trance as he attached his ankle line. Smile growing as the water raced up the sand to lick at his feet and calves, the world went silent as everything except for ocean before him fell away. Heart pounding and spine tingling, his gaze caught fire as the horn sounded. Running ahead with the deafening roar of the crowd cheering behind him, Marco closed his eyes and pushed down as he dove beneath a breaking seventeen foot wave.

Looking up through the water, the brunette watched the wave from down below as it passed overhead. Surfacing right as it rolled on through, he paddled out with more enthusiasm than he had shown in the weeks prior. Grinning fiendishly as a wave larger than any his competitors had seen came barreling toward him, Marco reversed as it dragged him backward. Then, like magic, his sixth sense kicked in--commanding him to rise to his feet. Springing up with little to no effort, he dropped in from the head of the growing wave, cutting across its face until he hit its rail off of which he launched into a string of twists and flourishes.

Dragging his fingers along the wall of water running alongside him like an ever present shadow, Marco wanted more. He wanted to go faster, to feel the water streak across his face, and the power of the crest surge through him. Dropping a knee as he leaned forward, he rocketed through the barrel like a bullet from a gun. Cutting back as he shot out the tail-end of the massive wave as it doubled over and broke, he kept up his speed as he caught the next one. No other surfer would have had the stamina to double back and ride two consecutive waves of that size. Most would have hit the deck and dove down to let it pass. But not Marco.

Channeling the waves energy, he shot up to the top, shredding the edge with the nose of his board before returning to the center. Like every other big wave rider out there, he was happiest in the tube where heaven and earth--sky and sea--blurred together into a tangled beautiful mess of dreamy white, crystalline aquamarine, and seductive blue. Laughing as the droplets fell from the top of the eighteen foot high barrel and kissed his head, Marco was finally home; once more at peace with the ocean and her unpredictable kind of love.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. There was no rain, no danger, no fear of him not returning to shore. There was only this perfect beautiful moment suspended in time as he watched the water curl in around him creating the perfect barrel. It were as though he were thirteen again catching his first tube on the North Shore after eating shit so many times before. Marco didn't want to leave; didn't want to take his eyes off the sight before him because, to him, it was like gazing upon the gates of heaven. But his run was coming to an end and the shore was calling to him. So, with a warm thankful smile, Marco rose to his feet as he approached the end of the barrel, turned around on his board, and bowed in thanks as he was carried away as the wave folded in on itself.

Turning back to face forward as the announcers lost their shit over the little bow he did--a habit he had formed during his youth after Aulani told him to always be grateful to the ocean for such joys--Marco caught his ride back in. Letting the wave do most of the work, he swung his feet around and anchored them in the sand before undoing the ankle strap. Jogging in quickly so that he wouldn't be pulled back out by the undertow, the brunette was bombarded by his sister and manager when he made it up to the kiss-and-cry. Not even looking at the scoreboard, he reached around to unzip his wetsuit. The rain had calmed to a slight drizzle by the end of his run and he was starting to overheat. 

As he peeled it down to his hips, Marco was jumped by Jean who had booked it to the shore the moment he began to come back in. Pulling him into a long deep kiss while raking his fingers through those wet luscious chestnut waves, the photographer breathed out a laugh as his fiance hugged him tight with one hand bracing his back and the other tangled in the longer strands of his undercut. It wasn't until the crowd bellowed once more when the scores came in that the two realized that their kiss was being broadcasted on national--and international--television. Uncaring of the public, Jean held his partners' face in his hands; peppering his cheeks, nose, forehead, and eyelids with sweet kisses in between words of praise. 

When the final results came in with Marco in first, the both men couldn't believe their eyes. After three and half years of running--after suffering an injury so severe, it had nearly claimed his life--Marco had returned to the water and what a comeback it was. People cheered without restraint, radio hosts babbled in disbelief like madmen speaking in tongues, and the announcers heralded this run as "the return of the king." But none of it mattered. No trophy could match the unbridled joy Marco was feeling. Hooking his arms around Jean's waist, he spun the blonde around then kissed him deep as he set him back down.

"Welcome back baby," Jean smiled as he ran his hands up the smooth honeyed skin of his fiance's chest.

Biting his lip, Marco kissed him again with a devilish wink. "It's good to be back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as I've said before, every pivotal chapter (one that starts a new arc) will be marked with an end note section dedicated to a song that sums up the feel of the upcoming arc or describes it in some way. Since this upcoming group of chapters are going to be centered around surfing, I thought why not honor where the pastime originated from. So here, from me to you, is "Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride."
> 
>  
> 
> **HAWAIIAN ROLLER COASTER RIDE**  
> By: Mark Keali'i Ho'omalu and the Kamehameha School Children's Chorus
> 
>  
> 
> Aloha e aloha e  
> 'Ano 'ai ke aloha e  
> Aloha ae aloha e  
> A nu ay ki aloha e
> 
> There's no place I'd rather be  
> Then on my surfboard out at sea  
> Lingering in the ocean blue  
> And If I had one wish come true  
> I'd surf till the sun sets  
> A wiki wiki mai lohi lohi  
> Lawe mai I ko papa he'e nalu  
> Flyin by on the Hawaiian roller coaster ride
> 
> A wiki wiki mai lohi lohi  
> La we mai iko papa he na lu  
> Pi'I na nalu la lahalaha  
> O ka moana hanupanupa  
> Lalala I kala hanahana  
> Me ke kai hoene I ka pu'e one  
> Helehele mai kakou e  
> Hawaiian roller coaster ride
> 
> There's no place I'd rather be  
> Than on the seashore dry, wet free  
> On golden sand is where I lay  
> And if I only had my way  
> I'd play til the sun sets  
> Beyond the horizon
> 
> Lalala I kala hanahana  
> Me ke kai hoene I ka pu'e one  
> It's time to try the Hawaiian Roller coaster ride
> 
> Hang loose, hang ten, howzit, shake a shaka  
> No worry, no fear, ain't no biggie braddah  
> Cuttin' in, cuttin' up, cuttin' back, cuttin' out  
> Frontside, backside, goofy footed, wipe out  
> Looking for the wipe-out  
> Let's get jumpin', surf's up and pumpin'  
> Coastin' with the motion of the ocean  
> Whirlpools swirling, cascading, twirling  
> Hawaiian roller coaster ride
> 
> There's no place I'd rather be  
> Then on my surfboard out at sea  
> Lingering in the ocean blue  
> And if I had one wish come true  
> I'd surf till the sun sets  
> Beyond the horizon
> 
> A wiki wiki mai lohi lohi  
> Lawe mai I ko papa he'e nalu  
> Flyin by on the Hawaiian roller coaster ride
> 
> A wiki wiki mai lohi lohi  
> La we mai iko papa he na lu  
> Pi'I na nalu la lahalaha  
> O ka moana hanupanupa  
> Lalala I kala hanahana  
> Me ke kai hoene I ka pu'e one  
> Helehele mai kakou e  
> Hawaiian roller coaster ride


	22. A Boy with a Coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco meets the Kirstein's and learns more about his husband-to-be...
> 
>  
> 
> GREETINGS!: Hello mortals and welcome back to One Of Many Waves. So, first I would like to thank everyone who has supported me and kept up with this fic. I never thought it would go this far but here we are, Chapter 22. Woot woot!! Secondly, I want to take this moment to announce that we will be reaching the end fairly soon. By that I mean within the next twelve chapters or so. And while it is bittersweet that the final two arcs are coming, it has been a long time coming and is the natural course of the story. So thank you again for the encouragement and I hope you enjoy the rest.
> 
>  
> 
> HEADS UP/CHAPTER REASSIGNMENT!: Okay, so this chapter is going to be a long one and will center around Marco and Jean. Originally, chapter 22 was going to be the third part of the Levi/Eren arch but I decided to switch things around and make chapter 23 the last of the Levi/Eren arch and chapter 22 the opener to the Kirstein arch. I apologize to anyone who was looking forward to seeing what's happening with our two lovable photographers but you'll have to wait because, like always, the story ran away from me and did whatever the hell it wanted.

The plane had just crossed over into American air space when Jean felt Marco stirring from the seat next to him. It had been a long exhausting week for the brunette and he had been running on fumes for the past twenty-four hours. To remedy this, the blonde allowed his weary partner to sleep on his shoulder all he wanted during the flight from Australia to New York. Marco would need all the energy he could muster with the next week that was set out before them.

A couple days before the pair had packed their bags to fly back home to Santa Barbara, Charlotte had called Jean begging him to come home a week earlier than they had planned. His parents both missed him and apparently he had just missed seeing his grandparents who had flown out from Finistere, France for ten days. Caving after an hour of bickering back and forth, Jean broke the news to Marco who didn't seem to mind either way. In fact, he looked rather delighted since it meant less time spent on a plane. That and he was happy to finally have the opportunity to meet his fiance's family.

Despite the photographer having left New York on a solemn note, Marco knew that a part of him missed home. He could see it in his eyes every time they watched anything that was remotely connected to the Big Apple. Whether it be a TV show, a movie, a documentary, or just an advertisement to entice people to travel to New York, it got Jean every time. The signs were subtle--like a twitch of the fingers on his keyboard or the way his lips dared to curve into the smallest smile--but Marco could see them; knew what they meant because he felt it too whenever Hawaii was thrown into a conversation. So, as much as he was looking forward to seeing Jean's face when he saw the darkroom extension he had built onto the house while they were away, the brunette acquiesced to the change of plans.

Lifting his head slightly as the plane hit a pocket of turbulence that was hanging over New Jersey, Marco blinked back the lingering exhaustion as he stretched his tired limbs with a long yawn. After, he nuzzled back into the crook of Jeans' neck; loving the familiar scent of warm clean cotton that clung to his fair skin. Kissing the spot just below his jaw, Marco smiled that childlike smile of his while scooting in closer to his man--the armrest having already been raised at the start of the flight when the brunette had fallen asleep.

"We there yet?" the brunette murmured against the smooth column of Jean's throat with both his eyes closed.

Nodding with a gentle hum, Jean kissed the top of his fiance's head; resting his cheek in the disorderly halo of chestnut brown brown hair.

"Yeah, we're in a holding pattern over Manhattan right now because there isn't enough space on the ground."

Groaning, Marco let his displeasure be known. "How is it that one of the busiest airports in the world doesn't have a gate available for a scheduled arrival flight? Like, they never have space at JFK which is just crazy to me. "

"It's because it is one of the busiest airports that it doesn't have space for us. Seriously babe, calm down. We'll be on the ground soon."

"I know. I just really don't like flying."

Chuckling, Jean quirked a brow. "I thought you said you didn't mind it."

"Well yeah but," the brunette paused when the plane shuddered as the craft changed directions to align itself for landing. Pinching his eyes shut, Marco exhaled then watched the flight attendant walk by as he fastened his seatbelt. "I don't mind it when it's something I can sleep through or when it's dark out."

Smile growing wider with his mounting disbelief, the blonde stared at his partner with a tinge of humor in his dancing golden eyes. "Marco, are you afraid of heights?"

Looking at his partner as if he had just insulted his honor, Marco opened his mouth to speak but grit his teeth together when the rough winds over the city caused the plane to quake.

"I am not afraid of heights," he insisted though through tight lips and with measured breath; gripping the armrest as the aircraft approached the ground. "I just don't like flying," he whined as the landing gear hit the tarmac with purpose.

"You know, that's kinda hilarious coming from the guy that has to travel for his surfing competitions."

"Yeah, a real hoot," Marco said with more than a healthy helping of sarcasm in his tone as he unbuckled his seatbelt as the plane was ushered to its gate by the ground crew. "Thank God. I couldn't take another hour on this damn thing."

Laughing at that, Jean leaned in and kissed him sweetly on the jaw. It was endearing how a man that took on fifty foot monster waves in stormy weather without hesitation would fear an airplane. But then again, Jean wasn't one to judge since he had harbored a fear of whales since he was a child. Part of him felt like it was because he saw Pinocchio before he was old enough to understand that not all whales ate people; well, none for that matter. Regardless, the blonde didn't utter a single teasing word as his fiance shook the anxiety from his hands and took in a long soothing breath.

Grabbing their bags from the overhead compartment as well as the declared items they had bought at the airport in Melbourne, the couple departed from the plane and took the fast track to customs. Since they were US citizens the process took considerably less time than it did when they were entering Australia. Claiming their luggage then stopping at the Starbucks for a quick coffee to help work off the jet lag, they headed to the arrivals lobby with both eyes peeled for the driver Simone sent to pick them up. However, rather than returning to New York without attracting any attention to himself, he was quickly put on the radar when a very familiar voice shrieked his name from across the massive receiving area.

Racing toward the young man at blinding speed in four inch black YSL stilettos was a tall and lithe platinum blonde woman dressed in tattered boyfriend jeans and a plain white t-shirt knotted in the bottom left hand corner with her four thousand dollar Channel backpack slung over one shoulder and a leather baseball cap shoved into her back pocket. Practically pouncing Jean like a lion on the prowl, she wrapped her slender arms around him while simultaneously jumping in place wearing the brightest smile Marco had ever seen apart from his fiances. Kissing the photographer on the cheek, nose, eyes, and then the cheeks again before squeezing him again, it was clear she had no intention of letting the poor man go despite him urging her to do so. It wasn't until she stood still for a moment that Marco could finally get a good look at her face and, in doing so, figured out who she was.

"You must be Charlotte," Marco chuckled as the woman smushed his fiances face in between her palms.

Turning away from torturing Jean with her obnoxious older sister habits, she beamed brightly. "And you must be my new brother-in-law." Taking the hand he had extended to her, she gave it a firm shake. "Charlotte Kirstein."

"Marco Bott."

"Trust me, I would've known it was you from across the airport. You two kinda stick out; got that power couple image thing going."

"Right," Jean dragged the word out as he rubbed his sore cheek.

"Anyways, you guys got everything right? Because it's fashion week next week so the paparazzi are out and about looking for people of reputable means to defame so the sooner we get going the better."

Heeding her words, the men double checked to make sure they had what they had brought with them to New York--the other half being sent back to Santa Barbara with Jodie--and they booked it for the car. Noticing Charlotte's move to fix the baseball cap over her long flowing hair which she promptly tied back into a ponytail before slipping on a pair of black sunglasses, Jean knew that was his queue to do the same. Slipping his beanie and aviators on, he quickly told Marco to cover up before they left the building. Just as the brunette slipped on his shades, the automatic glass doors of the exit slide back to reveal a throng of ravenous paparazzi waiting to catch a picture of the supermodel and her brother.

Lifting a hand to cover his face out of instinct, Jean cursed under his breath while tightening his hold on Marco's hand. His heart pounded against the confines of his chest and his lungs struggled to regulate each breath that came as the anxiety set in. Of course these bastards would be here. He was one of the more recognizable children of New York's elite as was Charlotte so it made sense that they'd be there. But just because he was used to prying eyes of the press--and to such an extreme degree no less--that didn't mean Marco was. He was grateful when he felt the brunette squeeze his hand though as if to say "it's okay."

Ignoring the numerous reporters asking where he'd been for the last three years, who the mystery man with him was, and if the rumors behind his disappearance were true, Jean coolly slid into the back of the family's private black town car after Charlotte and Marco had situated themselves. Yet, he didn't leave without his signature sign-off--a backwards peace sign with his tongue sticking out as a taunt.

"I take it that's not the first time that's happened," Marco chuckled from his spot between the two siblings.

Slumping back into his seat with a heavy tired sigh, Jean stared at the ceiling. "If I had a nickle for every time that happened..."

He didn't to finish his sentence. It was plain as day that that was a regular occurrence for the Kirstein family. Being the child of a famous photographer and a powerful editing house executive seemed to be more of a drag than the two blondes let on. They both looked worn out from the harrowing journey from the terminal to the car. But then again, the type of press that followed surfers and the attention they received from the paparazzi was a lot different than the breed of reporters that stalked the children of New York socialites. He would never know what it was like being hounded by people waiting for him to screw up just so they could photograph it. Jean did though and so did Charlotte.

"Hey Barry," Charlotte called to her driver. "Put on that song I've been listening to a lot lately."

For a moment, there was only silence as the man shuffled through the songs in the music library until he landed on the song. Clicking play, the opening lyrics for "Sympathique" by Pink Martini came on giving the atmosphere a new care-free vibe. Slowly, a smile stretched across Jean's face as he heard the cheeky words being sung. Joining his sister who was already singing along, the pair forgot about their worries while indulging in a tune they both just so happened to love.

Relaxing into his seat, Marco laughed as the blondes sang in perfect time with the lighthearted melody that spoke of how the narrator would rather lounge about and smoke rather than work. He knew that the Kirsteins were French on their mothers' side who had been born and raised in Finistere. However, he did not know that they were fluent in French; so much so that he questioned if English was their second language. Smiling even more when Jean leaned against his shoulder and knitted their fingers together, he placed a soft loving kiss atop his crown then rested his cheek on the fair strands of blonde hair.

Watching the city fade away as they headed east toward the Hamptons, Marco nuzzled gently against Jeans' cheek then whispered, "Welcome home love."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chasing the afternoon sun as it rode along the coastline was something akin to being pulled back in time to the first trip his family had driven up to the Hamptons. Jean was so much younger then; so much more innocent and unknowing of what the future held in store for him. Yet in those eighteen years the view hadn't changed. The sound of the crying gulls and ocean waves crashing along the shore hadn't changed. Neither had the smell of the salted winds peppered with crisp waters, musky woods, and traces of floral notes whenever they passed through a residential area. It was all just as he remembered it being; simple, beautiful, and enchanting.

With his head pressed against the window, Jean breathed against the window then drew a starfish and a whale before the thin film vanished, rendering the little cartoons invisible. Watching the world fall away only to give way to stretches of pristine unaltered coastline, the blonde could see families on the beach--ones that resembled his when he was little--as they played and enjoyed the refreshing ocean spray and each others company. Eyes following one child in particular--a small boy with fine platinum blonde hair and bright eyes--Jean felt as if he were looking at an image of himself. Joined by his sister who was chasing him with kelp that had washed ashore, the child ran with a bubbling laugh and a smile stretched clear across his face. It was sweet, the simple joy one experienced during their youth.

'Was I ever like that?' Jean wondered to himself.

It was difficult to remember a time when he was ever that happy. After the car accident with Carla and Eren, things took a turn and Jean was forced to grow up before he was ready. He had to learn what it meant to die and how to console those who have lost so much and in such a sudden manner. Brief blips of a world tinted in glittering golden sunshine would come back every once in a while; sometimes in his dreams and sometimes at random when something triggered a memory to resurface. He could recall his eighth birthday at the summer home. Charlotte and his father had taken him down to the beach to collect seashells on the beach and build a fort out of driftwood. When they got back, Simone surprised him with a party of his closet friends--Eren, Armin, and Mikasa with their families. 

He distinctly remembered his mother wearing a delicate white muslin summer dress with a drop-waist and slender straps that his father would sweetly slip back up her shoulder whenever they fell. She had white jasmine in her long blonde hair that had been pulled back into a slightly messy bun yet it didn't matter how disheveled her hair was because her bright smile would eclipse any untidiness.

Memories like those which were so vivid in his mind felt like they had occurred to someone else in another lifetime. They were so pure and serene to exist in his world. Who was that starry-eyed child that haunted his past? It couldn't be him. Not with what had happened a year later. Not with what he had lived through during his teen years and the hell that followed when he went to college in the city. Looking at the side by side comparison in his head, it was like night and day. That wasn't Jean, not anymore. It were as if he had shed the skin of his former self, lived numerous lives, and was now impersonating the ghost of who he once was. Yet even so, part of that child still existed and would come back whenever Marco held his hand or kissed him tenderly on the cheek. Maybe that boy hadn't died all those years ago. Maybe he was hiding somewhere in the dark confines of Jeans heart, waiting for someone to find him in this game of hide and seek.

Crossing into Wainscott, it wasn't long before the car turned onto the gravel path leading up to Kilkare. Once owned by Eleanora and Michael J. Kennedy, the home was bought promptly by Jean's father, Armand as an anniversary gift for his mother. She had always loved the seaside "cottage" and had modeled the interior of their home in Brooklyn after it. Situated only three minutes from the beach, the oceanfront home was the iconic Hamptons home with three sprawling acres attached to it. For those in the top one percent, it was a status symbol that many had fought over when it was briefly on the housing market. But to Jean and Charlotte, it was representative of their childhood. It was a time capsule that held within it all his favorite memories that remained untouched by the cruelness of time and age.

When Jean looked out the window at Kilkare, he didn't see the grey shingled roof, the red brick chiminies, the white buttresses that held up the sundeck, or the weathered rust brown walls of wood that had stood the test of time for the last 140 years. What Jean saw was the countless afternoons he spent playing on the beach with Charlotte, the nights he and Eren camped in the backyard and chased fireflies, and the Forth of July barbecues during which he and his friends would build forts on opposite sides of the property and try to steal each others totem. When he looked at Kilkare, he saw birthday parties with family members he hadn't seen in years, celebrations of his parents' anniversary, and visions of the stories Simone used to read him before bed. He remembered the first night they spent there and how the only way his mother could get him to sleep was by singing him an old French lullaby she had learned from her mother.

Circling the round-about driveway, the photographer took a deep breath before opening the car door. It had been so long, so painfully long since he had been here that he was afraid that the rush of nostalgia awaiting him on the other side of that front door would crush him. But when he felt the gentle squeeze of Marco's hand in his, Jean knew that he could handle this. A year ago he would have buckled under the weight of it all; maybe even six months ago would have been too soon. However, with Marco at his side, the blonde knew that everything would be alright. He may not be returning home as the boy his parents once knew but he was coming to them as the man he was always meant to be.

Walking up the blanched wooden steps, Jean had to steady his breathing one more time before turning the knob on the front door. Upon entering, he was greeted by the foyer and open-air halls. Unchanged in the years that Simone owned the house, everything was as it was when the Kennedy's had occupied Kilkare. From the dove white walls to the deep pumpkin wood that patterned the ceilings, framed the doors and windows, and had been used for the flooring, everything was as it had been for the past fifty years; simple, elegant, and welcoming the way a proper home ought to be.

Slipping out of his jacket while Barry took his and Marco's bags up to his bedroom on the third floor, Jean led his fiance further into the house. Following the faint smell of herb seasoned chicken and some kind of wine-based sauce, the blonde deduced that his father must be cooking. While Simone was a master of baking in all forms and knew her way around pastries as if she had written the book herself, Armand was real cook of the family. It wasn't often when the family would eat out and it wasn't until his college years that Jean became familiar with the concept of fastfood.

"Dad must be in the kitchen," Charlotte noted as she took a long sniff of the fragrant air. "God, I'm hungry. I hope he's almost done with lunch."

"Almost," came a velvety rich voice from the short hall connecting to the dining room and kitchen.

Surfacing from the unknown was a man about Marco's height--maybe an inch or so taller--with youthful brown eyes, sun-kissed skin, and wavy golden hair styled into a short cut with longer bangs swept to the left of his heart-shaped face. He looked young, so young Marco thought that this had to be an older cousin of theirs. Even his attire shaved years off of him--a pair of slimming dark jeans and burgundy, hunter green, and gold striped raglan sweater with the sleeves pushed up completed by a pair of maroon Converse that were slid on; his bare heels just barely sitting behind the edge of the shoe. The only thing that betrayed him were the very faint wrinkles near the corners of his eyes and the two grey hairs hiding away in his bangs.

Wiping his hands clean, he kissed Charlotte on the forehead when she passed by. Then, looking between Marco and Jean, the man smiled warmly and extended his right hand out in the brunette's direction.

"You must be Marco," he said as they shook hands. "Armand Kirstein; I'm Jean's father."

"Holy shit," the brunette said without thinking only to blush five different shades of red when both his fiance and Armand laughed. "Sorry, it's just..I mean..you don't--"

"I don't look old enough to have a kid his age," Armand finished the sentence with a chuckle. "It's alright. It get that a lot more than you think. My wife and I were pretty young when we had our kids."

"You were young dearest," spoke another voice; this one smooth and airy with a soft accent woven in. "I was already in my late twenties."

"Ah, yes, how could I forget," Armand rolled his eyes playfully as his wife entered the room from the outdoor patio. Kissing her on the cheek, he faced the brunette and his son once more. "May I introduce my wife Simone. Simone, this is--"

"Marco Bott," she said; her perfect pink lips curling just a bit though it didn't meet her eyes. Extending a hand, she shook Marco's. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Marco wasn't sure what he wanted to do more--melt from her electrifying gaze or shrink back into himself from the power it had over him. Simone was nothing like what he had seen in the magazines. Her amber gaze was more delving and intrusive; it should have been a breach of privacy laws for her to have a stare that intense. Those feline eyes that were framed by a flawless fair face and cascading platinum blonde hair that was both straight and feathery watched him with unrelenting curiosity. It was eerie how strongly she and Jean resembled one another. Everything from the freckles in their eyes to the way the left corner of the lips would quirked into a lopsided smile--it was so familiar yet vastly differently.

The brunette knew she was sizing him up; could see it in her piercing eyes as she appraised him, inch by inch. The Kirstein's and the Young's were both from old money and had built an empire of their own upon what had been left to them. It would make sense that Jean's parents would be protective of their children and had come expecting to be interrogated and picked apart before he received their blessing. He also knew that the person that was in control of this household was undoubtedly the mother--just like his family. But unlike Aulani who was just as protective of Marco and Ymir, Simone had an added edge to her. Like a dagger hidden inside her sleeve, her smile masked the real story that was unfolding behind her indecipherable eyes of liquid amber.

"You know I'm not going to make this easy on you," Simone said outright as if she had read the brunette's thoughts. Laughing at the wide-eyed expression that appeared across his freckled face, she quirked a brow. "I come from a family of four older brothers. I know exactly what you're thinking Marco."

"Mom," Jean snapped, his face flushing from embarrassment. "Was that necessary?"

"I'm only being honest, sweetlove." Patting her son's stunned fiance on the shoulder as she passed by, Simone couldn't look more pleased with herself if she tried. "I'm going to go clean up before lunch. Jean, will you and Marco help your father set the table."

"What about Charlotte?" Jean complained though only slightly, not wanting to incur his mothers wrath.

"That girl got up at the break of dawn to pick you up after spending the week running back and forth between fashion houses in prep for fashion week. I think she's earned herself a break."

"Fine," Jean groaned.

"Don't be a brat," Marco teased under his breath when Armand and Simone weren't looking. "Come on babe, it's not that bad."

"Oh and Marco," Simone called before vanishing up the stairs. "You'll be helping me with dishes after lunch."

Swallowing hard, he forced a smile; something he never had to do before. "Of course."

Humming, the woman floated up the stairs, disappearing completely seconds later. When he heard a door close upstairs, the brunette heaved a sigh; slumping forward while his fiance bent over a little to look at him. Laughing lightly, Jean brushed the hair away from his face. Marco was fearless--braving turbulent oceans and riding monstrous waves taller than a small house--yet was shaking in the knees after a short conversation with his mother. Granted, Simone could be terrifying; something the blonde became fully aware of when she picked him up from the dean's office when he was seven and was suspended for kicking the school bully in the balls. However, he didn't think she'd have that crippling of an effect on his partner.

"Hey, you okay champ?" Jean joked while rubbing soothing circles into the brunettes back. "You need to lay down for a moment or something?"

"I'm fine. Is she always that intense?"

"Always. You'll get used to it though. I think she's turning it up since it's your first time meeting each other." Jean kissed the side of Marco's head as he straightened out. "Just think of it like being hazed into a team or something."

"Right," Marco smiled nervously. Biting his lip as their hands came back together, he lifted it up to kiss the smooth fair skin of Jeans ring finger. "Shall we?"

Cracking a soft smile, Jean nodded. "Yup."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lunch was less eventful than Jean thought it would be, though in a good way. Despite Simone's insistence that she approved of his relationship with Marco, he didn't entirely believe her until they were chatting casually over rosemary chicken noodle and vegetable soup. Armand took great joy in recounting some of his sons most embarrassing moments like when he wet the bed at his grandmother's house in Nice or the time the ride operators had to stop Splash Mountain at Disney World because he was having a panic attack and tried to jump off the boat before they got to the big drop at the end.

Simone was all smiles as she told Marco about the day her son was out in the reeds looking for frogs but came back with a snake in his net instead. She couldn't stop laughing as Armand interjected recounting how his wife screamed like a woman possessed when Jean let it loose in the house and how it took the entire day to find it. Even worse was the Forth of July when Charlotte dared Jean to ride down the stairway banister which resulted in a trip to the emergency room and a broken arm fractured in two places for their son. Much to Marco's surprise, his partner was worse than he was when he was a kid. If Marco had ever brought a snake home when he was little, Aulani would have smacked him upside the head and told him to return it to its home. 

Getting his revenge on his parents, Jean told his fiance about the time they had the brilliant idea of driving cross-country only to have the rental car get trashed by a hungry bear that was trying to get to the food they had stashed in the trunk. Face going pink as she remembered her husbands' futile attempt to stop the animal as it tore the door open after breaking the window, Simone laughed without restraint as Armand defended himself, saying that it wasn't his fault since bears didn't normally go around ripping car doors off.

Watching as Jean glanced to Marco with a look of devotion in his eyes, smiled, then kissed the back of his hand, Simone felt her heart break. She hadn't seen her son this happy in years. It had been well over a decade since she last saw that kind of smile appear across his lovely face. Somehow, it were as if they had gone back in time to the years when he hadn't a care in the world; back to when he was her pure tenderhearted baby boy that would watch her as she baked in the kitchen. That same child that would beg her for one more bedtime story was there sitting across the table from her yet grown up. The baby fat that had softened his facial features was long gone; now replaced with finely crafted features that mimicked his fathers. Taller, slimmer, and in possession of a matured voice, Jean had grown up overnight when she wasn't looking. But his eyes were still as beautiful and full of wonder as they were the day he came into her world.

Standing up as she collected hers and Armand's bowl, Simone looked to the couple across from her. "Marco, would you assist me with the dishes?"

"Yeah, of course," he said, not missing the dreamy look in her eyes. 

Collecting his, Jean's, and Charlotte bowls, Marco kissed his fiance on the cheek before following Simone into the kitchen. While everyone else continued the conversation outside, he and the woman were silent for a long couple of minutes. Turning on the warm water, she placed the dishes in the sink to let them soak. Rolling up the sleeves of her white linen blouse, she tied her hair back while telling Marco that he'd dry the items in the rack and put them away while she cleaned them. Getting to work, the blanket of silence returned. There was a part of the brunette that was grateful Simone had decided to stay quiet. However, part of him felt uneasy with the lack of conversation. Had he done something to upset her without him even knowing? Was that last kiss on Jean's cheek the tipping point? His answer came more swiftly than he expected when she broke the silence.

"You two have been together since March, correct," she said, it being less of a question and more of a statement.

Forcing his mouth to work, Marco nodded. "Yes," was all he could manage.

"So four months."

"Correct."

"And you already proposed?" Handing him one of the cream colored bowls, Simone leaned against the sink. "Aren't you afraid you're moving too fast? What's the rush? If you love each other surely you can wait until you're older."

Choking on the nerves building in his throat, Marco paused for a long moment. Staring back into those golden eyes, he could see a hint of challenge lurking in those swirling pools. It was a trick question; he knew it was. She was testing him to see if he was really good enough for her son or if he was an insect that she needed to dispose of. He could have panicked; almost did when he had been confronted with the rapid series of questions that challenged his relationship with her son. But when he looked at Simone in that moment, he didn't see any threat. He saw a mother--much like his own--who wanted nothing but the best for her child. Smiling softly at her, he looked down at the bowl in his hands.

"Honestly, I was afraid at first that we were going to fast," Marco answered as he sat the bowl down in the drying rack. "Jean was too especially since what spurred me to ask him was a mini heart attack that landed him in the hospital. We are young. Jean's only twenty-three and I just turned twenty-seven three days ago so I can understand your concern. But I'll tell you what I told him, I don't care how long it takes or when we get married because I already know that he's the one. Jean's the love of my life and I plan on holding onto him as tightly as I can because I don't want to know another day without him in it."

Arms folded casually across her chest, Simone had to fight to keep the tears back. She had not been expecting that kind of honest answer. Rather, she was expecting him to defend their decision and say something about them not being too young. It's what she and Armand had done when they told her parents they were engaged; him being twenty-four and her just making it to twenty-eight. Instead, this dreamy eyed surfer had thrown her through a loop; a feat not easily done with few people capable of doing so. It was still difficult for her to accept her sons orientation. She was trying hard though; doing her absolute best because she had realized a year ago that she would rather have him as he was than not at all. Yet hearing what she had just heard from this strange young man in front of her had not only reassured Simone, but it had filled her with a kind of hope she had not experienced before. 

There a bittersweetness to the confession because she knew that, from that moment on, it wouldn't be her who would be taking care of Jean. She would no longer be the sole source of strength, love, and protection for her son. Like giving a bride away at a wedding, she was handing the future happiness of her child over to someone else. And no matter how much it pained Simone--no matter how she still saw Jean as a child in her eyes--she couldn't stop them from going through with this. It was clear from the look in Marco's eyes. They were meant for each other; hopelessly in love with one another and nothing would change that.

"He's my only son," Simone said; her voice barely above a whisper and watery as if she were about to cry. "The day he was born and I held him in my arms for the first time, I promised that he would know nothing but love. That I would do everything in my power to protect him." Hesitating, she pressed her lips into a line and looked down at her shoes. "I've failed him as a mother so many times. I couldn't see what my words were doing to him. I didn't see how much we had drifted until the incident before he left New York." Choking on her words as a tear streaked down her lovely face, Simone took in a deep breath. "I had been so blind and I almost lost him if it weren't for his sister."

Marco didn't know what to say as the tears began to build in her eyes so he remained silent; let her get it all out the same way he did with Jean.

"I did lose him though when he left for California. I was too stubborn to see that this was, in part, my fault. But you brought him back to me. I know because Jean would have never agreed to come home for the gala if he hadn't changed." Watching Marco's confused expression clear and his lips part just slightly, she smiled; the smirk reminiscent of the grin Jean would wear. "I know my son far better than he knows. I could tell something was different when he began texting a month ago. Even though they were short messages, it was still better than the silence I had been enduring from him."

Reaching into her pant pocket, Simone removed a small dark blue velvet pouch with the drawstrings pulled tight. Taking Marco's hand in hers, she gazed into his eyes as she slipped the bag into his palm then curled his fingers around it. From the way the item inside the pouched shifted beneath his fingertips, he could tell it was a ring of some sort. Heart pounding and mind completely blank, he could see something shift in her. Whatever he was now holding was of great value to Simone; something she wouldn't hand over to just anyone.

"Open it," she commanded gently as her hand slipped away from his.

Watching her for a moment longer, he then complied and opened the bag. Tilting it just enough, he was surprised to see an old though perfectly maintained silver ring roll into the center of his right palm. Yet, looking at it, there was something distinctly different about the band. Lifting it up, the brunette examined the item; noticing faint script on the inside that looked like it had been smeared and misshapened during it's creation.

"This belonged to Jean's great-grandmother. Her husband was a jeweler before the Nazi regime. They didn't have much money for proper engagement rings so he had four silver coins melted down to make a pair of matching bands." Smiling a little when Marco looked to her with shock-filled eyes, Simone continued. "When he and my grandmother passed, these were given to my parents and they passed them on to Armand and I. Now, I give it to you. My husband will give my son the one intended for you later on tonight. But I wanted to give you this now in private."

Eyes flickering from her to the ring in his hand, Marco closed his palm around it for safe-keeping. "I don't know what to say..."

"You don't have to say anything. Just take care of him. Love him, protect him...do what I couldn't and make him happier than he ever has been. Do that, and you have my blessing."

Sniffling back tears, Marco nodded. "I promise."

Humming with a slow thoughtful nod, Simone smiled then wiped the tears from her eyes. "Good. Now, if we're done with the dishes, we should join the others on the patio. I know Armand is likely wondering what's taking us so long."

"Simone," Marco started as she began walking toward the dining room entrance. Closing the distance when she paused, he took a chance and hugged her the same way he hugged his own mother--fully with both arms wrapped around her petite frame. "Thank you," he murmured. "Thank you for your blessing and for bringing Jean into this world."

Choked up beyond words but uncertain of how to react to the sudden gesture of affection, the woman just nodded and patted him kindly on the back; letting him remain like that for a moment longer. She had never been faced with someone as open or honest with their emotions as Marco so it threw her off balance somewhat to be hugged like that. It had been so long since either of her children had embraced her like that that she had forgotten how nice it felt to hold someone that tenderly. Allowing the to stay like that a minute longer, she then pulled away to wipe whatever tears were left on her cheeks. Taking in a deep breath, she then sighed as her senses came back to her. That was enough crying for one day.

"Right. Now, time to rejoin the others."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Something wasn't right when Marco rolled over in bed that night. He could feel it, even in his sleep, that something was missing. Groaning a little as he searched for the familiar warmth he had grown accustomed to being right beside him, a frown found its way to his face when he found that the source of heat was gone. Now he knew that something was someone. Between that moment and when he had first fallen asleep, Jean had gotten up and left. Now, Marco was alone in the queen sized bed that suddenly felt too big for one person.

Sitting up--his hair a mess from sleep and his eyes still hazy--the brunette was determined to find his missing partner. Jean never got up in the middle of the night like that. He was more of a heavy sleeper than Marco was even if he did wake up at the crack of dawn. Glancing around the dark bedroom, he spotted a warm ruddy glow coming from the balcony facing the shore that wrapped around the wall behind the fireplace. Slipping out from under the duvet and throw blankets, Marco padded over to the double French doors; opening them just as a breeze blew in from the ocean.

With a small shiver, he walked out onto the balcony. Glancing to his right, he saw nothing but ocean and shoreline stretching out for as far as his eyes could see. Feeling a tingle run up his spine, he turned around to see Jean staring up at him. Curled up in a large blonde wood adirondack chair with a wool plaid blanket thrown over his shoulders and a cup of hot cider in his hands, he smiled softly at the brunette. Marco could see the familiar overwhelming look of adoration in his eyes. It was the same expression the brunette reserved for his partner when they were alone like this. 

"Couldn't sleep so I came out here," Jean said quietly already knowing the question that was ready to jump from the tip of Marco's tongue.

Catching the slight tremble in the blondes fingers, Marco drew closer. "Mind if I join you?" When Jean only smiled, he slid in behind him, taking the blanket and wrapping it around them both as the photographer situated himself in his lap. Sighing contentedly when Jean leaned back into his chest, Marco closed his eyes with his chin resting gently atop the young mans head. "I missed you. Even in my sleep, I could feel you weren't there."

"Sorry. I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't fall back asleep."

"Bad dream?"

Shaking his head from side to side, Jean smiled. "No. Just a lot on my mind." Setting his mug down on the wooden side table to his left, the blonde knitted their hands together under the blanket; a warmth blossoming in his chest when he saw their matching bands next to each other. "My dad gave me my great-grandfathers wedding band yesterday after dinner. Told me to give it to you on our wedding day."

Pressing their cheeks together, Marco kissed the side of his partners jaw. "Simone gave me the matching one."

"Really?"

Nodding, the brunette nuzzled sweetly into the crook of Jeans neck, taking in the fresh clean scent he had grown to love. "She gave it to me when we were cleaning the dishes after lunch." Hearing Jean sniffle--probably because he had started to cry--Marco held him tighter. "I guess it's safe to say we have their blessing."

Shaking his head, Jean laughed through his tears; voice cracking slightly and face flushed. "Yeah, I guess we do." Shifting so that he could curl into Marco's chest, Jean held him tight; burying his face in the warm fabric of the mans henley. "Thank you Marco, for being so wonderful and for finding me."

Kissing the top of his head, Marco closed his head as they reclined back into the chair as the roar of the waves brought them closer to sleep. "I'll always find you Jean. I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this chapter was jam-packed full on angst and heartache, I decided to lighten the mood with Jean's secret playlist that is basically a compilation of songs that remind him of Marco. So here, from me to you, is the Love Letter List. <3
> 
> **MB**
> 
> -"Fun" by Blondie  
> -"Electric Love" by BORNS  
> -"Sweet Dreams" by Beyonce  
> -"Thieves Like Us" by New Order  
> -"Love You Like The Movies" by Anthem Lights  
> -"Stereo Hearts" by Gym Class Heroes feat. Adam Levine  
> -"My Nutmeg Phantasy" by Macy Gray feat. Angie Stone & Mos Def  
> -"Nine In The Afternoon" by Panic! At The Disco  
> -"Whistle For The Choir" by The Fratellis  
> -"My Moon, My Man" by Feist  
> -"Cosmic Love" by Florence + The Machine  
> -"Strangeness And Charm" by Florence + The Machine  
> -"How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful" by Florence + The Machine  
> -"Never Let Me Go" by Florence + The Machine  
> -"Bedroom Hymns" by Florence + The Machine  
> -"American" by Lana Del Rey  
> -"Blue Jeans" by Lana Del Rey  
> -"Video Games" by Lana Del Rey  
> -"Young And Beautiful" by Lana Del Rey  
> -"Summertime Sadness" by Lana Del Rey  
> -"Off To The Races" by Lana Del Rey  
> -"Radio" by Lana Del Rey  
> -"Together" by The xx  
> -"Crystalised" by The xx  
> -"Love You Madly" by Cake  
> -"Dark Of The Matinee" by Franz Ferdinand  
> -"Darts Of Pleasure" by Franz Ferdinand  
> -"400 Lux" by Lorde  
> -"World Alone" by Lorde  
> -"Drops Of Jupiter" by Train  
> -"Breakfast In Bed" by Train  
> -"If It's Love" by Train  
> -"Yellow by Coldplay  
> -"Till Kingdom Come" by Coldplay  
> -"Pistol" by Josh Kempen  
> -"Best I Ever Had" by Gavin DeGraw  
> -"Better Together" by Jack Johnson  
> -"Do You Remember" by Jack Johnson  
> -"Honey And The Moon" by Joseph Arthur  
> -"Such Great Heights" by The Postal Service  
> -"Your Love Is A Song" by Switchfoot  
> -"Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol  
> -"In My Dreams" by Ruth B.


	23. Kaleidoscope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is all about the little moments and old things made new. Eren and Armin both learn that while visiting New York.
> 
>  
> 
> FUN FACT: The primary inspiration for this chapter came from three songs--"Brother's On A Hotel Bed" by Death Cab For Cutie, "Marching Bands Of Manhattan" by Death Cab For Cutie, and "I Would Die For You" by Miley Cyrus. So, if you wanted to get into the mindset, there they are for you to use. Happy listening and good reading!
> 
> -Mars

It had been three days since Eren had left the hospital. The surgery had been a success, well, for the most part but something within him commanded the young man to stay right where he was. Reclined back into a moderately comfortable chair he had pulled up next to his fathers bed, the brunette rested his cheek against the flat of his knuckles as he watched Grisha's chest rise and fall as he slept. The doctor's had told him he'd be alright and to go home and grab some shut eye. They had assured him time and time again that if anything happened that they'd call him immediately. But how could Eren believe them?

Every time someone he knew went to the hospital they never came back. His grandfather died of pneumonia while he was hospitalized, both his grandmother's had suffered stroke and died at Mount Sinai in Manhattan, and his favorite aunt died right after delivering her second child. He was surprised Jean hadn't kicked the bucket the two times he had been rushed to the emergency room; the guy probably had multiple lives to off-set Eren's rotten luck for these things. 

As such, he refused to listen to the doctors and the nurses and the surgeons he had known since birth who used to come to every party his parents hosted and every birthday he'd had. Eren wouldn't be deterred; not until this whole thing blew over and Grisha was allowed to come home after being given a clean bill of health. So there he sat with cramps in his legs and stiffness in his shoulders as his wary eyes watched the peaks on the monitor rise and dip with every beat of his fathers heart. There he would stay ignoring the overwhelming smell of rubbing alcohol, 409, and detergents used to sterilize the linens. He'd stay because he refused to watch another person he loved die.

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Walking down the hallway as he left the cafeteria with two coffees in hand, Levi tapped on the up button for the lift with his elbow. He hated hospitals; couldn't stomach the smells or the chilling feeling he got while visiting friends and family there. Silent as he rode the elevator up to the fourth floor, he stepped out and walked toward the reception desk for the ICU. It had been three days since Grisha's surgery and the doctors assured both he and Eren that everything had gone smoothly. Yet his partner remained unconvinced.

Grisha had slept through all of today and the day before, waking up only to drink a few sips of water before passing out again. This wasn't normal or more like, this wasn't the man Levi knew Eren's father to be. He had never seen him so frail and defenseless. In his youth, Levi was in awe of the man who towered over him like some colossal titan whose booming laughter could be heard clear across the ward. Always chipper with a glint in his bright hazel eyes, the man was so full of life he could have powered an entire city with the energy. Standing in the doorway of Grisha's room, the adviser couldn't stop the knot from forming in the pit of his stomach.

This wasn't right. This wasn't Grisha. Dressed in a stark white hospital gown with all the color flushed from his face, he looked like a ghost; a husk of a human waiting to be released from this world. His hair,which had been combed and loosely braided so that it wouldn't cling to his clammy skin, was still damp from the cold sweat he broke into that afternoon and his lips were pale--cracked open as he quietly dragged in long breaths then exhaled. There were monitor feeds coming out from under his gown, a lead attached to his right index finger, and a breathing tube fastened to his nose that looped around his ears on both sides. The picture was so far from the man he knew Levi had to wonder if they were even the same person.

Burying the hot tears that sought to destroy his composure, Levi entered the room; setting the coffee in his left hand down on the table next to Eren. Breaking free from his thoughts, the brunette turned to look at the cup then up at his partner who had stepped close enough that he could place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Thanks," Eren smiled weakly as he took the drink and tested its heat with a small sip.

Massaging the knot in Eren's shoulder with the flat of his thumb, Levi observed the slumbering man. "Has there been any change?"

"No. He woke up a couple hours ago thinking I was my mom." Wiping a tear from his cheek, the young man sniffled. "He asked if I was still at school or if I was over at Jean's house. It sucked because he looked so happy when he thought I was her."

Levi didn't speak, just stood there rubbing soothing circles into his shoulder as he allowed the kid to let it all out. This past week had been rough on the both of them but it was Eren who was suffering the most. He knew his partner had lost more than his fair share of loved ones in the past; didn't even need to ask because he could see it in those troubled green eyes that looked so sullen. He understood the pain Eren was going through better than most but, unlike him, Levi had never watched someone die. As morbid as the thought was, the adviser was lucky because he wasn't there to witness his parents passing. Eren, however, had watched his mother die, was there as they pulled her body from the wreck. He had also been holding his grandfathers hand when he died of pneumonia years ago. Levi understood the pain but, at the same time, couldn't come anywhere close to relating.

Sitting down on the arm of the chair, Levi set his coffee down before pulling Eren into his chest. Resting his chin atop the mess of cinnamon hair that crowned his lover's head, he said a silent prayer for Grisha. He had never been a religious man but that didn't mean he couldn't give praying for a miracle a shot. If there was a God and the guy was as fair and just as people made him out to be, then he'd spare Eren's father, banish the cancer from his body, and let him live until he was a grumpy old man with shitty hearing and dentures that he'd keep on his nightstand. That was the only allowable outcome in Levi's mind. Anything else was unacceptable.

"You look tired," the older man observed as he placed a soft kiss on the brunettes head. "Go home and get some sleep. I'll watch over him tonight."

Shaking his head, Eren pressed deeper into the warmth of Levi's chest. "I'm staying here; going home wouldn't do me any good anyways because you wouldn't be there. I'd just be up all night staring at the ceiling so I might as well stay."

"You haven't left the hospital since yesterday morning. You'll burn yourself out if you keep going like this."

"But he needs me."

Catching the rasp in his voice, Levi pressed his lips into a tight line. "He also needs you to take care of yourself. You've only eaten once since the surgery and you've hardly slept. I know you're worried about Grisha but you're scaring me Eren."

"What if something happens?" The words hung in the air between like a lead weight crushing down on their shoulders. Eyes burning, Eren buried his face in the soft fabric of his partners shirt. "What if there's a complication and I'm not here?"

Levi struggled to find his words for a long moment. He couldn't lie to the kid and say everything would be fine when he knew that that was a lie. Even the simplest of procedures could go sideways with the patient dying in the end. But even so, that wasn't going to happen to Grisha. The man had promised Levi he'd stay alive; that he'd fight this thing with all he had because Eren still needed him. He couldn't die now, not when his only child had yet to graduate from university, become a renowned photojournalist, settle down, and adopt a few kids. No, he couldn't die because this wasn't how Grisha's story ends. There was still so much to do. So much left to see and experience.

"Grisha wouldn't do that to you," Levi said; his voice just barely above a whisper. "He's not going to leave you now. I promise."

"Alright Jesus, if you say so," Eren joked despite his tears.

Smirking with playful pinch to the young mans cheek, Levi held him close. "I mean it though. He can't go yet. He promised me he wouldn't and I plan on holding him to that."

"Really? And just what did he promise?"

Looking down, a warm smile tugged at the corners of Levi's lips when he saw Eren peeking up at him. It may have been Grisha's idea that they tie the knot after the kid graduates next summer but, the more time he spent with Eren, the less opposed to it he was. They were so clearly made for one another and both of them knew it. Both knew where this road would lead and neither fought against it because they needed each other. They weren't any good on their own. Not anymore they weren't. It was obvious in the way they looked at each other right now, in that moment.

Shifting in place, Levi rose with one hand outstretched to the brunette. "Come with me."

"What? Where?"

"Can't tell. Just come on. I have something I gotta talk to you about."

"You can't talk about it here?" Eren protested despite his curiosity. "What about dad?"

"He'll be fine if we leave for a little while. Please?"

Gazing into those eyes of pure starlight, the young man relented. "Alright. But we can't be gone for too long."

"Just a few hours; I promise."

"Just a few," Eren repeated as he stood and reached for his coat. Shrugging it on, he then turned to kiss his father on the forehead. "Love you dad. I'll be back in a little bit," he whispered before turning to leave; taking Levi's hand as they exited the room.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

The world looked different from the back of a motorcycle. Everything appeared softer with the edges blurred and the lines muddled while all form of lights and color washed together to create a dreamy landscape over which the moon slowly sank with the sun not far beneath the horizon in the east. 

Tightening his arms around Levi's waist, Eren formed around his partner like a blanket clinging for warmth and safety. He didn't know the man owned a motorcycle--it being one of the few things of his fathers rebellious mid-life crisis he had thought to keep. Strangely enough, it fit Levi who had been a bit of a punk in his earlier years before Kenny had set him straight. That angst, no doubt, being the the product and direct result of losing his parents at such a young and difficult age.

Watching the rows of houses zip by, they turned into the Lower Bay residential area of Brooklyn. Cutting through the suburbs as the sun crept closer to the horizon--painting the sky vibrant shades of peach, pink, pastel blue, and glittering gold--Eren felt the stress that had accumulated for the past three days slip away piece by piece. The weight on his chest lifted as he took a deep breath in then smiled as he let it go. It was absurd to be feeling this free when his father was in the hospital but the farther away from Maimonides Medical Center he got the better he felt; more importantly, the more he began to believe Grisha would be okay.

With a smile, Eren slowly sat up straight and stretched his arms out. Like a bird flying high above, he felt as if he had been released of his earthly troubles and was soaring overhead without a single care. Eyes closing and smile growing, he felt the reverberation of Levi laughing shake him gently while the cool air washed over him. Nothing else existed in that moment except the two of them, the bike, and the road ahead.

When they reached the coast, Levi slowed down a bit and patted Eren's thigh. Emerald eyes fluttering open, the boy lit up like a firefly when he saw Brighton Beach and Coney Island backlit by the slowly rising sun that was about to make its morning debut. Gradually coming to a stop somewhere down the boardwalk, Levi rested the bike on its kickstand and removed his helmet as Eren did the same. Stashing the headgear in the compartment under the second rider seat, the adviser eagerly took hold of his partners hand with a childlike smile and led them closer to the shore where the water lapped at the sand.

Laughing as they approached the damp sand, the couple playfully tugged one another from side to side; Levi whipping Eren around in a half circle so that he could catch him in his arm. It had been nothing but melancholy and long hours spent watching the IV drip since Grisha's surgery and it had taken its toll on them both. But in this moment--this perfect little blip in time--they couldn't be happier. Neither knew what exactly they were laughing about or why being on the beach so early in the morning made them feel so weightless but they didn't care. They didn't want to know because this moment was theirs.

Pulling Eren in for a kiss, Levi laughed with a surprised smile as they fell backwards onto the sand. Gazing into those enchanting eyes of deep forest green crowned with a ring of gold at their center, he could not have been more in love than he was. He had missed Eren's smile. Missed seeing the light captured in his eyes and the warmth echoed back in his laughter. Reaching up, he framed the side of his lovely face; tenderly thumbing the line of his jaw while admiring the faint band of freckles that had become more prominent since summer break had started. This young man--this mesmerizing and wildly beautiful person--was his; forever.

Bringing their lips together, Levi couldn't imagine a greater feeling than this. Eren was so sweet and his lips were soft and warm and lush against his. He could drown in the taste; got high just from a single touch of those slender fingers that ghosted up his neck and tangled in his dark hair. Rolling over so that the brunette was laying on top of him, Levi's breath caught in his throat as the rays of morning sunlight rose like a halo stretching out from behind Eren.

"Are you even real?" the man breathed, his voice almost a whisper, as he held the kid's face in his hands.

Snorting a laugh, Eren leaned in to place a feather light kiss on his cheek. "Keep talking like that and I'll have to marry you."

"That doesn't sound too bad to me." Pausing when his partner gasped quietly under his breath, Levi kept one hand tangled sweetly in the brunette's hair while the other took his tan hand and placed it on his chest allowing Eren to feel his racing heart. "You remember when I came up late to bed four days ago, after I helped out with dishes from dinner?"

Eren nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"Grisha wanted to talk to me in private...about you." Licking his lips, he let the words flow without hesitation. "He told me that if his condition worsens the one wish he has is to see you get married."

Eyes going wide with a glassy sheen as realization dawned on him, the young man had to fight to remember how to breathe. "Holy shit."

Combing his fingers through the deep brown waves, Levi offered him a vulnerable smile. "I know right. That was what I thought when he asked me but, thinking about it now, it's not as scary as it was before."

"Levi..." Eren could hardly think let alone speak. Tears falling from his eyes to land on the alabaster skin of his lover, the brunette was in complete shock. "Are...are you...?"

Craning his head up, Levi kissed him on the jaw, cheek, then lips. "It doesn't have to be now. Grisha said that in the off-chance that this gets worse, he'd be alright with us waiting until the summer after your graduation."

"But is this something you want? You're not put off by it or doing it just to make my dad happy?"

"I already told you brat, I have every intention of making you mine. Yeah, it's a little soon but it's not like we'll be saying our vows tomorrow." Kissing him again, Levi whispered, "Just think of it as a promise. Whether it be next June or years from now, you can count on me always being yours."

"Me too," Eren spoke into the gentle kisses; his whole body trembling from the overwhelming rush of emotions he was experiencing. "I'll always be yours. It's always only been you." Strength finally failing him, the young man laid flat on Levi, hiding in the welcoming heat of his embrace as his strong arms wrapped around him. "This is real," he breathed disbelievingly.

Smile widening as he closed his eyes and felt the warmth of the sun wash over them, Levi held his brat close. "Yeah, this is real."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Armin's head pressed into the glass of the taxi window as the morning sun broke over the skyline of Manhattan. It felt so good to be home after three years of being away. Sailing through the streets of the upper east side, he could feel the life returning to him that had be sapped from his bones over the last couple of months. School had been brutal and he had barely scraped by with straight A's during finals week. But it had cost him his social life and the brief relationship he had with Alex.

Thinking back to their last fight and how she accused him of using her as a substitute for someone else, he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. She was right, to some extent, but he thought he had gotten better. That he had stopped concerning himself with someone who didn't want him; someone that would never see him as a man but as "little Armin." Shaking the voice from his head as it cropped up, he distracted himself with the game of Sudoku he had been working on before landing at JFK.

Usually the blonde could complete an intermediate puzzle like that in half an hour flat. But his mind kept wandering; drifting off into deeper waters that he wasn't ready to revisit yet. Staring at the number grid, his eyes saw what was in front of them but, at the same time, didn't see anything at all. 'I'm turning into Eren for fuck's sake,' Armin thought to himself as his daydreams clouded his waking mind. Sighing from frustration, he closed the booklet and tossed it as well as his pen into the open mouth of his forest green Herschel backpack.

Snaking up the Upper East Side--jogging parallel to the East River, it was a relief when the taxi came to a stop at the foot of what his grandfather used to call the "Carl Schurz Tower." Armin couldn't stand being alone with his thoughts for another moment. It was one of the reasons he hated summer and winter intersessions. Being left to his own devices was a dangerous thing because he'd start drifting and once he started drifting there was no wrangling him back; at least, not without Eren being around to snap him out of it there wasn't.

With a sigh, the blonde fished a hairband out of his pocket and pulled his golden shoulder length hair into a loose bun then pinned his long sideswept bangs back before sliding on his aviators. He had forgotten to shower before leaving Santa Barbara and couldn't stand the feeling of his hair on his face at the moment. 'First order of business is taking a long shower,' he thought to himself as he hefted the strap of his backpack up one shoulder. Grabbing the single checked luggage he had brought, Armin tipped the cab driver then walked inside the private entrance of the building. His family owned the top two floors and the penthouses that came with them. However, he wasn't expecting a big welcome party or anyone at all for that matter.

As an only child with parents who hardly took the time out of their schedule to acknowledge his existence except when he acted out on occasion, he was raised in near complete solitude and matured faster than his friends. An old man at eighteen, he never really fit in anywhere. The only place he ever belonged was with his weird group of misfit friends. They were his family which was why he had flown back to New York. After a day to himself, he'd head over to Brooklyn to check in on Eren and Grisha to see how those two knuckleheads were holding on. Following that was the summer clam bake at Kilkare which both he and Eren were invited to by Jean. Finishing off the week was the charity gala at the Plaza Hotel which all four friends--Eren, Jean, Armin, and Mikasa--attended not only as representatives for their families but because it was a pact of mutually assured destruction they had made with Jean when they were younger to help protect him from the aggressive press.

Stepping off the lift into the main foyer of his grandfathers penthouse--it being on the opposite side of the building to his daughters, Armin's mother--the young man removed the keys from his pant pocket. Looking up he saw the note the old man had left for him. With a chuckle, the blonde read the explanation for his grandfathers absence, shaking his head at how scatterbrained the guy had become in recent years. He had ran out of groceries as well as magnesium carbonate for one of his at home experiments and had to step out. In the letter, grandpa promised to make it up to Armin with a homemade dinner and a marathon of his three favorite movies--Flash Gordon, Fifth Element, and High Anxiety. With a roll of his crystalline blue eyes, he shoved the note into his back pocket then opened the front door.

Nothing had changed in the years that he'd been gone; everything remaining as serene and beautiful as he remembered it the day he graduated from high school. The marble floors of the entryway were still polished to perfection and that portrait of grandpa and a young Armin smiling in a small fishing boat at the camera during a rare family camping trip hung over the knobby pine wood table that sat to the left of the front door. Depositing his bags in his bedroom on the first floor--it having been kept the same way he had left it--Armin climbed the spiral stairway in silence.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he entered the main sitting room with pastel yellow walls, ornate crown molding framing the ceiling, long plush sofas with rich wood detailing, and a sweeping view of the East River and Carl Schurz Park. Approaching the double French doors on the opposite side on the room, he wander out onto the terrace that offered the most breathtaking view of the city Armin had ever seen. Often when he was little and alone at home he'd come out onto the terrace and watch the boats pass by on the river. There were many days when he felt as if he were trapped in that small lonesome world, like one of the characters in the fairytale's he'd read about princesses trapped in high towers waiting for someone to save them. The only difference was that nobody came to save him. Armin had to set himself free which was why he had left New York the moment he graduated.

Shifting when the phone shoved into his back pocket vibrated, the blonde freed the device from the denim confines to see who was messaging him yet.

EREN: Oi! You in town yet??

Smirking, Armin tapped out his reply.

ARMIN: Yeah, just got to the tower and settled in. No one's around and the fridge is empty so I was going to clean off and go out for something to eat.

EREN: Where's the old man?

ARMIN: Apparently grandpa went to the grocery store and remembered he needed to pick up some magnesium carbonate.

EREN: You know, if it were anyone else saying that, I'd be worried. I thought he retired from teaching.

ARMIN: Yeah, but he still does some experiments at home. Anyways, I'm going to hop in the shower. See you tomorrow at Maimonides?

EREN: Yeah, around 10:00ish. See ya' Arm. Love ya'.

ARMIN: Love you too.

After a quick rinse and dry down, Armin switched into something that wasn't a tee shirt and sweat pants. Slipping into his favorite distressed vintage wash slim jeans with the star patterned patch in the back pocket which he cuffed at the bottom, he tugged on a crisp white scoop-neck tee and laced up a pair of maroon low-tops. Depositing his phone, house keys, and glasses in his leather messenger bag along with a charcoal gray cardigan in case it got cold later, the blonde put his sunglasses on and left the penthouse. This was how he always did things whenever he came home namely because there was rarely anyone around. He could do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted which, as it turned out, wasn't all that fun.

Taking the subway to China Town, Armin escaped the Upper East Side; swapping the ritzy glamour of the prestigious postal code for the more laid back street life of Lower Manhattan. He never liked the image and airs of the cushy life. Maybe that's why he didn't get along with his parents those few times he saw them every year. They were so obsessed with status and the finer things in life while Armin valued the smaller sweeter moments in life like eating ice cream on a cold winters day or laying in the grass as the summer sun set. He wasn't the son they thought he'd be, even after being shipped off to a fancy boarding school for the entirety of junior high which only divided them more. No matter what they did, he could never be like them. So they kept their distance, gave him free reign, and called every month just to briefly see how his studies were going.

Smiling when he exited the subway station, he stood in front of the red and yellow painted shop fronts and stretched his arms with a long happy sigh. Taking a deep breath, his stomach growled at the smell of dim sum, fried mini cakes, and minced pork bao. Overhead there were still streamers and decorative lanterns from the Dragon Boat festival that happened a week and a half ago with flyers plastered on the sides of buildings. The noise was deafening; so much so that it was soothing. If there was one thing that drove Armin crazy it was too much silence. It was why he spirited himself away to busy sections of town and did his homework in cafes because doing it at home would drive him clear up a wall.

Stepping off the sidewalk, the blonde cautiously crossed the street; avoiding the cars and motorcycles that passed through without so much as honking. Pressing his aviators up the bridge of his petite nose that had gradually turned to a light sun-kissed tan like the rest of him had over the course of the semester, Armin walked down the street following the flow of the crowd without hesitation until he reached his favorite restaurant. It was just a little hole in the wall shop, but Nom Wah Tea Parlor had been around since the roaring twenties and knew how to make a killer dim sum as well as the best minced beef dumpling soup he had ever had.

Upon entering the establishment, he was first greeted with the usual hello until he took his glasses off and the older woman behind the counter recognized him. Screaming gleefully, she hopped down from her stool at the register and made her way over to him. No taller than five-three though her personality was more fitting of someone double her height, Mrs. Woo was dressed entirely in conflicting vibrant patterns with her peppered black hair done up in curls, age spots on her appled cheeks, and a pair red reading glasses dangling from their jeweled lanyard around her slender neck. 

"Little Armin!" Mrs. Woo cooed as she hugged him tight. "Where have you been my boy? It's been nearly a year since I've seen you!"

Chuckling, the blonde bent down to return the hug. It was strange to think there was a time when she had to do the same to give him a pinch on the cheek.

"Sorry, I've been in school and haven't had the time to visit home," Armin smiled as she pinched both his cheeks then the tip of his sweet nose. She used to kiss his forehead when he was little, but now that he had grown up, that had stopped. "How's Mr. Woo?"

"Oh he's fine. Has the day off because our granddaughter is flying in from Vancouver. You should come see her sometime. She's gotten so pretty and tall just like you," she said with a mischievous glint in her eye. She had been trying to set him up with her Mei since they were in junior high but he could never see her as anything but a good friend and former classmate.

"Sorry but I won't be in town for long. Just here for a few days and then I have to leave."

"Pfft," Mrs. Woo hissed past her lips while waving a hand in front of her face. "You work too hard Armin. If you don't take any breaks, you'll work yourself into an early grave."

"I'll keep that in mind granny."

With one more pinch to his charming face and a little smirk, Mrs. Woo trotted off to assist the customers waiting in line at the bakery case while telling the young man in charge of the restaurant portion that anything Armin order was half-price. Of course she barked the command in Mandarin because, if the other customers knew she was playing favorites, there'd be an uproar. Waiting patiently in line until it was his turn, the blonde's eyes wandered up to the television screen mounted on the wall to his right.

It seemed every news station was talking about three things--the hurricanes in Florida Keys, the wild fires in California, and the latest political scandal. As much as he honestly did care, it was hard not to become overwhelmed by the over-saturation of bad news. It was as if there was nothing good going on in the world anymore. Politicians were pigs, the film industry was being turned on its head as one of its biggest names was accused of sexual assault, and the number of terror attacks overseas had spiked. All Armin wanted was to see something good happen; something that would make him believe hope in humanity was completely lost.

As he watched the news broadcast cut to commercial, the first ad to play was the latest campaign for Dior. Focusing on the back of a young woman as she ran through the heart of New York city which slowly transitioned into a golden field of tall grass and wildflowers, the air stilled in Armin's lungs as the model turned around. Enchanting honey gold eyes gazed down at him with the corner of her petal pink lips punctuated in top left arch by a beauty mark curved into a gentle smile. Like the perfume she was marketing--aptly named 'Bliss'--feeling her eyes upon him was like being washed in the heaven's light. How long had it been since he had seen her? The woman who singlehandedly made him soar over the clouds with joy then fall to the deepest depths of the ocean with pain and longing.

"Oh for fucks sake," muttered a voice behind him; a familiar voice at that.

Frozen in place a the chill racing up his spine caused the small hairs on the back of his neck to stand up, Armin forced himself to turn around. There, waiting in line at some hole in the wall restaurant was the face that had haunted him for the better half of his life. The same face that used to smile so fondly at him then was awash with tears as she broke his heart three years ago after turning him down. It were as if his thoughts had summoned her there so that he could see her once more. Just as stunning as the last day they had seen each other, her natural platinum blonde waves had been pulled into a casual ponytail that draped over her petite shoulders and her skin was still as milky but showed the faintest tinting from the sun's loving embrace.

Golden eyes wandering from the ad she regarded with disdain, her gaze locked with the man in front of her. "Armin?" she spoke; her voice disbelieving as she removed her sunglasses.

Unable to stop the soft smile from forming, Armin chuckled. "Hey Charlotte."

Taking a step forward, Charlotte eyed him up and down once then twice when she couldn't believe what she was seeing. "Holy shit, is it really you?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Jesus, you've changed so much. I hardly recognized you." Staring at him for a moment longer, it finally occurred to her how awkward she was being. "Fuck, sorry, what's wrong with me? Hey," she smiled as she took him into her arms for a friendly hug.

Returning the hug, Armin fought to keep his composure. Not only was she still just as lovely and adorably awkward, but she smelled the same too. "Hey. So how are things?" he asked as they parted.

"They're alright I guess. Life's been a little stressful lately and I'm losing my mind with the prep for fashion week."

"Oh yeah, that's next week right?"

Nodding, she blew a stray hair out of her face. "Yeah and I've been driving myself crazy with all these callbacks and practice walks for designers that just don't know what they want from their models. I've been running around Manhattan in heels non-stop for the past two weeks."

"Well isn't that what they pay you the big bucks for?"

Laughing that quirky little laugh of hers with the rasp laced in, she punched his shoulder playfully while biting the corner of her bottom lip. "God, I can't believe it's really you. Like, fuck, you've changed so much."

"Is that good or bad."

"Both." 

Smiling when he arched a solitary brow, Charlotte tried to compose herself. Lately, all she could think about was Armin. After the way they had left things three years ago, the argument had been weighing on her heart namely because she had broken his so thoroughly, it had left a crack in hers. They were both young and dumb back then--well, at least she was. Despite him voicing his affections for her, Charlotte couldn't bring herself to see him as anything more than her brother's friend; she was too scared to acknowledge him as anything more. 

They grew up together and had grown so close that if he got any nearer to her heart he stood a very real chance of breaking it. And at the time she was in a bad place; stupid and naive and obsessed with the fast paced world of fashion that wasn't exactly conducive to healthy relationship practices. So she pushed Armin away, disregarded his feelings, and chalked his infatuation up to nothing but a passing fancy. But that night where he poured everything out and told her he loved her not only shook her free of any misconceptions but it had frightened Charlotte because she didn't know how to handle his honesty as well as the way her heart fluttered at the confession. So instead of being honest with both him and herself, she lied and cut him deeper than any blade could.

"You in town for the gala?" she said while forcing the trembling in her knees to stop before it could be noticed.

Humming as he nodded, Armin regarded her with the same fondness he did when they were kids. "Yeah, can't leave it to Jean to keep Eren in line after he's gotten a few drinks in him."

"Right, forgot about how rowdy he gets."

"I don't know how you could forget that after he kicked a hole in the boathouse at Kilkare."

Laughing lightly at the memory, she nodded. "You know we still haven't fixed it; partially because the story of how it got there is too funny."

"That's true."

Gazing up at him, a thought occurred to her; one she was hesitant to ask. "Hey Armin," Charlotte began. Biting her lips when his sky blue eyes met hers, she drudged up all the courage she had. "What are you up to today?"

"Nothing really. I just got here today so I was going to play it by ear. Why? What's up?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to play hooky with me? I'm supposed to go to a go-see for McQueen but the stylist has been shaving the heads of her models lately and I'm not ready to part ways with mine so I was thinking I could skip out and we could catch up on the time we've missed." Shifting uncomfortably under his piercing gaze, she added, "If you want to that is."

Perfect lips splitting into a dazzling smile, Armin's expression lit up. "I'd love to. Should we get our food to go?" When she nodded, he laughed. "Alright," glancing over his shoulder when the cashier called him up to the counter, he gave a jerk of his head. "Hurry up and order what you want."

"What? No I'm paying for--"

"Lunch is on me. It's been years since we've hung out so let me get the tab."

"Fine, then I'm buying us ice cream and coffee later."

Rolling his eyes with a boyish grin, Armin shook his head. "Whatever floats your boat."

Smirking at the way he teased, she stepped up to the counter but not before poking him in the side. "That's for not texting me."

It was so easy falling back into their old routine of teasing each other and playful banter. Of all the friends Jean had ever brought home, Armin was her favorite. There was just something about him that made him easy to talk to; something that drew her in like a magnet being pulled toward the poles. Reserved but outspoken in many ways, he was witty, intelligent, and mellow; probably the result of being friends with Jean and Eren who used to fight like cats and dogs during their difficult years. He was more mature than his young face would let on. 'Any woman would be lucky to end up with him,' she thought to herself as she watched him pay for their food. Taking the bottle of coke he intuitively knew to get her, her heart fluttered as a little shiver danced along her skin then up her spine. When Charlotte looked up, she was swept up in his dazzling eyes.

"So what'd you have in mind?" Armin asked with a playful lilt to his tone.

Swallowing back nerves, Charlotte gathered her thoughts then smiled back. "You'll have to wait and see."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

Charlotte couldn't remember the last time she had had so much fun. Playing hooky with Armin had been the best decision she had made all month; maybe all year. Turning off her cell phone so that Chuck couldn't nag her ear off about missing the two go-see appointments he had scheduled for her that afternoon, she toured the city with new eyes and a light heart. With arms interlocked at the elbows, they wandered from shop to shop trying on "I Love New York" baseball caps, cheesy shutter glasses, and teasingly spraying one another with flowery perfume while in the Fifth Avenue Kate Spade store.

Like the old days except better, they could talk about anything without worrying about stepping on a landmine. While Armin updated her on how grad school was going, she found herself in total awe of him. Having completed his undergraduate program in two years, he was almost done with the master's program at the end of which he'd have a degree in both STEM and Biological Sciences with a minor in Molecular Physics. She had almost forgotten that beneath that charming exterior was the mind of a certified genius.

"Jeeze, you really are a genius," she mumbled without even thinking as they watched the sun set from the boardwalk of Brooklyn Bridge Park. Leaning against the railing, she looked down at the water. "You always were the smartest in the bunch. Why you'd ever want to hangout with some airhead like me I'll never know."

Brows furrowing at her comment, Armin turned to look at her; his back pressed against the railing with his elbows relaxed over the edge. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. I mean seriously, you already have one degree and next June you'll have two more. I'm three years older than you and I just got my bachelor's."

"Yeah, but I'm not working full-time as an international model like you are. It's understandable that'd it'd take you a little longer to get your degree. And don't call yourself an airhead," he ordered though with a soft consideration to his tone. "You and I both know that's not true."

"Sometimes I feel like it is. Everyone in the program is so much younger and smarter than I am. Compared to them, I'm really nothing special."

"Okay, now you seriously need to knock it off."

"I'm serious Armin," Charlotte insisted; she lifting her head so that their eyes locked. With a weak smile, she sighed. "One day, everyone will know how wonderful you are. Just don't forget me when you get to the top, 'kay?"

Expression somber and blue eyes straining to hold back the empathy, Armin set his coffee down then moved to collect her into a comforting hug. Resting his cheek atop her head, he happily drowned in the warmth of her returning the embrace. She smelled so good--her light perfume making his heart skip whenever the breeze picked up. Taking a deep breath in, he exhaled as Charlotte braced herself against him; her pale slender fingers knotting the into the fabric of his cardigan that covered his broad shoulders. She hadn't realized it until that moment how much she'd missed him. Armin was like the anchor that tethered her to the ground so that she couldn't get too caught up in her reckless thoughts.

"You are not an airhead," Armin assured her; his rich gentle voice muffled by the glittering strands of her hair. "You are brilliant, you are immensely talented, and you are going to show the world how amazing you are someday. And when that day comes, I hope I'm there to see it happen just so I can say I told you so."

Pressing deeper into his chest, Charlotte shuddered not because of the cold but because her heart had began to break all over again. It had been so long since anyone had said such sweet things to her. She had begun to drift away from the "friends" she had once terrorized the fashion world with years ago after Armin left. Isolated and without any real support, the final blow to her bruised ego came after Jean left New York almost a year ago. She was all alone and alienated from the only friends she had ever had. To be treated so kindly after being alone for so long was like a flower drinking in too much water during a storm after enduring a long torturous drought. Armin was like the rain coming to bring her new life.

Chuckling, Armin rubbed the palms of his strong hands along her back. "You're shivering," he breathed next to her ear before pulling away just a little. "Should have known you'd get cold since you could never handle anything under seventy degrees." Turning them around to face the water, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his cardigan then wrapped the open flaps around them both like a cocoon. "Better?" he asked with his chin perched atop her head.

"Mhmm," she nodded; her fingertips grazing over his forearm before tentatively taking hold of it while leaning back into his warmth. "Hey Armin?"

"Yeah?"

"You're coming to the clam bake on Thursday, right?"

"I was planning on it. Jean would kill me if I didn't."

"Good."

"Why?"

Biting her lip, she closed her eyes as his arms tightened just a little around her willowy frame. "Because I wanted you to go too."

Taken aback by her words, Armin could only smile. "Really?"

Charlotte nodded, her heart and mouth unwilling to let anything more be said.

"Then I'll see you there; just like old times."

"Yeah," she breathed as the cool scent of his earthy cologne wafted on the breeze making her pulse skip. "Just like old times."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, like I said in the chapter summary, the inspiration for this installment came from three songs, one of which being by Miley Cyrus. This song also happens to be my chosen theme for Charlotte and Armin which, as you can guess from reading the chapter, have unrequited feelings for one another. There's more to their story which will unfold in the next couple of chapters as well as in the third arc. But for now, let's see if you can guess where they're heading based off this song. So here, from me to you, is the unspoken love letter for Armin and Charlotte.
> 
>  
> 
> *I WOULD DIE FOR YOU*  
> by Miley Cyrus
> 
> You are everything to me  
> And I, I would die for you  
> There've been times when I'm up all night  
> Crying in the dark, so I sleep with the light on  
> I've heard I've got words like a knife  
> That I don't always choose just so wisely  
> But I see trees and the colored leaves  
> When I think about all that we could be
> 
> And when you're gone, time is so slow  
> And like the grass, I've watched us grow  
> I heard you reap only what you'll sow  
> How could I never let you know?
> 
> But you are everything to me  
> You're sweeter than candy cane, better than any childhood dream  
> I am yours, and you are mine  
> I have your heart, I don't even need your ring  
> I'd give up all I have in exchange for who I love more than anything
> 
> When you're gone, time is so slow  
> Like the grass, I've watched us grow  
> I've heard you reap only what you'll sow  
> How could I ever let you go?
> 
> You, you are everything to me  
> And I, I would die for you  
> Yeah, I would die for you
> 
> When you're gone, time is so slow (I would die)  
> Like the grass, I've watched us grow (I would die)  
> I've heard you reap only what you'll sow (I would die)  
> How could I never let you know? (I would die for you)


	24. On Savait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things once lost can be found and love renewed...
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> BONJOUR!: Bonjour mes cheries et bienvenue a One Of Many Waves. Je vous avez tous beaucoup manque! First, I would like to apologize for taking so long to update this fic. I have been very busy with work, school, organizing trips to visit universities and family affairs; j'ai eu beaucoup d'faire!
> 
> Secondly, I want to let everyone know that this trend of me taking a while to update may become a regular thing (posting three chapters every four or five weeks) because I have started writing my own original work and I want to focus on that because it is a story I have stewing over for almost seven years but never found the time to write. This doesn't mean I'll be quitting AO3 or dropping any of my fics. They just may take longer getting to you than they did when I first started writing on this site.
> 
> But still, I want to thank you for your continued support and encouraging words that lift me up when I feel down. Merci tous infiniment mes cheries!
> 
> A tout a l'heure et jouir.
> 
> -Mars

It was a quiet morning except for the gentle rumbling of waves crashing along the shore and white gulls soaring overhead while pelicans bobbed along the excited waters in the distance. Standing on the back porch facing the coast, Jean sat on the blanched white wicker couch with a thick knitted wool blanket tossed over his shoulders. Held between the palms of his hands was a mug of hickory coffee; the same that he had back home in Santa Barbara. It was his favorite blend but could only be found in New Orleans at Cafe du Monde which meant he drank it sparingly. Thankfully, Armand would send him three bags whenever work took his father through Louisiana.

With a gentle smile, he watched Marco swimming in the deep blue of the peaceful Atlantic. The waves weren't substantial enough in this area to surf so he body surfed instead. And just like he did at home, Jean admired him from the shore; totally enchanted and bewitched by how easily he handled cutting through the water. To think, that man was his. Would forever be the one he woke up next to, fell asleep beside, saw every morning and got to share his secrets with. Would be his partner--his husband--and greatest supporter and love him through thick and thin and all he had to do was move to California and wake up at the crack of dawn to meet the man.

Biting the corner of his lip with a faint blush dusting his cheeks, Jean could still remember that morning. That tired foggy morning that was so cold and damp only for the mist to lift as the sun rose with Marco riding the waves beneath its warm light. Fingers twitching at the memory, Jean sat his cup down and padded into the living room for a brief second before reappearing with his camera. He knew that Marco knew he was taking pictures of him. It wasn't any secret that the brunette was his favorite subject and took photos of him whenever the opportunity presented itself. Ranging from candid portraits to intimate snapshots of Marco asleep in their bed with the sheets gathered around his naked form, the blonde had an entire library on his laptop dedicated to pictures of his fiance. But his favorite would always be that first image he had ever taken of Marco. It was perfect and summed up all things that made the brunette who he was; the sun, the waves, and that bright smile.

Coming back in right as the blonde lowered his camera, Marco rolled his eyes with a smirk. Jean always had his lens focused on him; especially whenever he was in the water. When they first met it was out of curiosity. After Marco had told him about his surfing accident, it was out of concern. Now, after their engagement, it was because he didn't want to miss a single moment of their lives together. 'I wonder what would happen if I bought him a video camera as a wedding gift,' the brunette pondered as he rinsed off at the shower station in front of the steps leading up to the porch. 'He'd probably film me naked instead of taking pictures.' Grabbing the blue and white striped towel hanging over the wooden handrail, Marco dried his hair as he walked up to the porch. Smiling brighter as the distance between them closed, he took Jean's camera and set it down before collecting the young man into his arms for a long cool kiss that tasted of sea salt and coffee.

"How'd you sleep?" Marco asked in between kisses to his forehead, eyes, and nose. The more they were together the less he could restrain himself.

"Mmm, like a dream," Jean purred as he tucked up against the brunette's broad freckled chest. Smoothing his hands up his shoulders before one dangled between his shoulder blades with teasing touches to the skin of his back, the other wandered up the nape of Marco's neck then tangled into the damp silken locks of dark chestnut hair. "Although I wish we could have gone a couple more rounds."

"Our room is three doors down from your parents."

"Yeah but the walls are thick."

"Babe," Marco chuckled incredulously as Jean nipped at his bottom lip. "We gotta behave ourselves. I don't want to get on your mom's bad side."

"I love how you aren't afraid of my father in the least."

"Well we all know why," he joked then winced when his fiance pinched his side. "Hey, watch it!" Marco laughed. "Come on, you and I both know your dad's much more chill and laid back."

"Yeah but he has his moments too."

"I'll keep that in mind," the brunette said with a cheeky smirk before relaxing into his partners arms.

"As you should," Jean murmured with eyes closed.

Following the trail from Marco's clavicle up to his throat, chin, then lips, Jean kissed his cheek before sighing into a welcoming hug. As much as he loved sex with Marco and kissing him, he loved holding him even more. There was something indescribable about the way it would make his heart flutter as if he were a starry-eyed lovesick teenager all over again. Such a simple thing so easily had him over the moon, like a child pining over his playground crush. But Jean had never had the opportunity to experience such a thing with his ex's. Not only were they not the hugging type but often the only time they would hold him was when they wanted to push him down against the mattress and take his pants off. But with Marco it was different. He craved physical contact--skinship--as much as the photographer did. Needed that touch to get him through the day; to help him sleep at night and wake up in the morning.

It were as if they were addicted to one another and sought no help to recover from it. Dwelling happily in the comfort Marco's body provided, Jean remained there--wrapped snugly in his arms with his cheek pressed tenderly against the flat of his shoulder that smelled of citrus and sunblock. He loved moments like these. Could spend the rest of his life aloft in the hazy joy that filled the air around them creating a bubble where only they existed. Saved from the moment their eyes met that morning in February, Jean knew this to be the redeeming grace and unwavering love people normally attached to the lofty figures in their religion. A perfect, freeing love that asked for nothing in return. Marco was no messiah, prophet, or apostle. He had not come to save the masses or him for that matter. But the man had rescued him nonetheless. He had found Jean at his most broken, saw something beautiful, and loved him for it.

"Come on," Jean spoke softly as he parted and tugged Marco toward the door. "Mom's making breakfast and insisted that you be the one to help her with the cooking."

"Alright. I have to wash off first. Don't wanna get sand in the scrambled eggs."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Charlotte emerged from the fitting room with a broad girlish smile then gave her audience a show as she spun in a small circle to show off the dress she was wearing. The gala for Y&J Magazine was tomorrow evening and the custom gown she had ordered from Dior had finally arrived from Paris where the fashion house was based out of. From the look on Armin's face when she appeared at the center of the private viewing lounge reserved for VIP clients she knew she had made the right choice. Many options had been presented to her ranging from sultry and edgy to modernistic and sophisticated. There were dress that were charming and whimsical then some that were almost virginal in how innocent their design was. None caught her interest so her contact and friend at the luxury boutique suggested that she design her own gown that way it would be unique to her. Moreover, there only be one like it in the world and something made in her likeness.

So, like any good friend would do, she listened to her personal shopper and created her own gown. Nothing escaped Charlotte's discerning eye either. From the fabrics used and their durability as well as flow to the colors and stitching, the piece was one of the most heavily scrutinized items the designers had ever made. But she was one of the house's favorite clients and a former model so the brand bent to her whim on occasion. This time, rather than show stopper shoes that would be the envy of the town, she had commissioned a gown so exquisite that the sales women and men in the room were stunned speechless when it was unveiled.

Pale blue like moonlight, the tulle and silk chiffon gown was dotted sporadically throughout the skirt with crystal caviar beads before it coalesced at the bodice that sparkled like a million stars. Neckline plunging to her sternum with sheer delicate bell sleeves and a circular cutout that framed the flawless curve of her back, she was like an angel fallen from its perch; lost in a city looking for deliverance. Glittering blonde hair spilling over her right shoulder with a shy smile slowly replacing the confident grin she had when first slipping into the gown, Charlotte's hands fiddled with the fabric of the skirt; swaying gently from side to side as Armin silently rose. Gaze not once leaving her, he approached the woman as if she were a dream veiled in mist that would dissolve if he broke the spell of silence.

"So," she began with a faint blush on her cheeks--eyes avoiding his with childlike caution. "What do you think? Not bad, right?"

"Charlotte..." was all he could say.

A surge of mixed emotions and reactions overwhelmed him in that moment and Armin struggled to keep his composure. He wanted to take her delicate frame into his arms to make certain that what he was seeing was real and not some fantasy manifested from his dreams. Wanted to feel her warm skin underneath that gown that fitted her so perfectly. Armin wanted to brush the hair back behind her ear so that he could better see those dazzling eyes of dark amber. But he had to curb his enthusiasm. had to curtail his urges to reach out and touch because they weren't together. She wasn't his and he wasn't hers. She was a friend; just a friend.

Armin repeated this like a mantra to better contain himself as the hand that had reached up to touch Charlotte's shoulder fell to his side and twitched in the fingers. If he acted on impulse again he could screw everything up. He had before when he poured his heart out to her when she clearly wasn't interested. Now they were getting a second chance to be friends and Armin was determined to be what she needed--a friend and confidant. He'd keep these feelings caged within him until the bitter end if he had to. Better that than lose her again. They had once been good friends when they were young. Understood one another in a way that differed from how he was with Jean or Eren. When he left it was akin to losing half of himself. This time, he'd be more diligent and hold on more carefully so as not to break the threads tying them together.

"You're beautiful," Armin finally said; a gentle smile gracing his features.

Charlotte felt her throat tighten when he said 'You're beautiful,' purposefully leaving out the word "look" as if to tell her that it wasn't just in that moment that she was lovely. In the past few days, she felt herself losing grip of any and all excuses she had held onto in the past that had kept them apart. "You're too young," she had once argued flippantly when he had told her years ago that they could have a better time together than she was having with her then-boyfriend. Too young, inexperienced, didn't understand what he was getting himself into, didn't understand her, and so on. The list that had once been endless had finally met its end. Had, at long last, stopped growing and--much to her surprise--the arguments were swiftly being crossed out one by one.

Armin was mature; more so than anyone his age or hers for that matter. He had learned patience, independence, and restraint early on because of his family and friends. Was self-sufficient because his parents had practically abandoned him for the sake of work. The argument of age could not be applied to him because Armin was an anomaly that was born into existence once every quarter century or so. The four year age gap between them seemed smaller now that they had grown; wasn't as taboo in her mind as it had once been. Similarly, the issue of inexperience had vanished over the years. Oddly enough though, Charlotte felt a pang of jealousy when she looked up at Armin and imagined another woman hanging off his arm.

They weren't a couple and she knew she had no right to be upset at such a thing. But still, she was supposed to be the one he adored the most. He had once said that he loved her so why were there recent photo's of some bookish brunette on his facebook page? 'What is he doing with someone like her anyways? She's a Dodgers fan for Pete's sake! If she really liked him she would follow the Red Sox's.' But maybe it was a good thing that the girl didn't know Armin as well as she did. That she didn't understand the little quirks in his personality or what he did and didn't like. If brownie locks couldn't get on the same wavelength as him, maybe Charlotte stood a chance.

'Stand a chance?' she suddenly caught the thought as it whizzed through her head. 'Wait, what for? He doesn't love me anymore.'

Dismissing the troublesome ideas spawning in her head, she turned around to go change but was stopped when Armin chuckled. She may have been able to get into the dress just fine and fasten the two buttons in the back but getting out of the damn thing was proving to be more difficult done than said. Sighing, she was about to ask one of the associates for help but Armin stopped Gianni--the male stylist--and reached up to undo the buttons. Charlotte shivered as his deft fingertips dusted the sensitive skin at the base of her neck as they tugged and pushed at the fastenings. Her heart raced and stomach flipped when his palms smoothed over her shoulders once he had finished his task. 'Kiss me,' she pleaded quietly; surprised by her own thoughts though not entirely. 'Turn me around and kiss me.' Charlotte's hopes plummeted when his hands left her shoulders as he stepped back.

"Go change. I'll be waiting out here for you, 'kay."

She nodded.

All she could manage was a nod because on the inside she was screaming. Everything that Charlotte had been repressing over the years came crashing down on her in that moment. It wasn't fair that she had been blindsided by her own heart; had been betrayed by desires so late in the game when he was no longer available. Armin was taken--already had a girlfriend that he appeared to be happy with. Who was she to come and rob him of something that he had been searching for for so long? He deserved happiness. Deserved to be loved and adored. He deserved to be wanted and cherished which was something she had denied even when he had given her nothing but tenderness.

Escaping his touch, Charlotte closed the fitting room door behind then gasped as a shuddering sigh tore through her. Tears gathering in her glassy eyes, she fought to destroy any and all hopes she had; the daydreams that had started to sprout up like flowers in the spring. She wasn't allowed to want him now. It wouldn't be fair even if it what was there was genuine. No. She wouldn't break him again. Wouldn't hurt him the way she had all those years ago. Charlotte would have rather lived with this secret rather than see him cry like that again. Armin was too special--was too dear now that she knew what she'd been missing. If it meant staying by his side, she would remain a friend and support him when needed. That was the best she could hope for. And when the day came that he found his "one," she would bite back her bitterness and sadness to congratulate him.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jean could see that something was wrong with his sister; didn't even need to look at her because he could feel the unease wafting off of her in waves. She may have been skilled enough to fool their mother and father--well, maybe not quite Simone--but she couldn't pull the wool over her brother's eyes so easily. Standing there in the doorway of his room with both arms crossed across his chest, Jean watched with a humored yet softened gaze as she brushed her long glimmering hair in the other room while singing along intermittently to "Drive" by The Cars. Every so often she would go quiet while battling with sections of tangled hair; mumbling words to herself and cursing under her breath.

Gnawing on his bottom lip for a half second, the blonde pushed away from the door frame just as the song ended and entered his siblings' room. Going unnoticed, he took the brush from her hands causing Charlotte to jump and panic for a brief second before realizing who had snuck up behind her. Smiling softly, she let him take over as she always did. This scene had played out hundreds of times before when they were little and more so in their teen years. There, in the privacy of her bedroom where no one could find her, Charlotte could let her guard down. There, where no one from the outside world could judge her and she was safe from the prying eyes of the press, she could dispense her deepest secrets to the only person worthy of hearing them.

"Sorry," she said almost low enough that it was a whisper.

"What for?" Jean chuckled as he gently combed her hair, still in awe at how she keep it so silky.

"Dunno. Just thought I should apologize."

The photographer snorted a laugh. "How many times have you told me not to apologize for stupid shit or when it's unnecessary?"

"I know but still I--"

"Char, what's really going on?" His tone wasn't intrusive or meddling. Just loving with peppering of concern.

She couldn't look into his eyes; not when they were so painfully kind. "What do you do when you love someone but they don't love you back?" she asked quietly while staring at her hands resting at the center of her lap. Peeking up through long lashes, she shook her head and forced a smile with a sniffle. "Nevermind. It was a stupid question."

"You make sure," Jean said abruptly, cutting her off before she could say more. Catching her look of disbelief in the mirror, he knew that she knew what she had been talking about. "You tell them how you feel just in case there's a misunderstanding because you never know until you ask. Right?"

Smiling honestly now, she laughed; not once breaking eye contact in the mirror as she reached behind her and hugged her brother. "I'm so happy to have you home," Charlotte confessed as she squeezed him tight. Kissing the side of his cheek, the sister closed her eyes taking in that familiar scent of warm cotton that brought back a rush of fond memories. "This family isn't the same without you."

Arms wrapped around her, Jean closed his eyes as he nestled in the crook of her neck where her silken hair pillowed. "I've missed you too. It felt weird being away from everyone."

"And you wanted out so badly."

"I know right," he chuckled. "Guess I'm more of a homebody than I thought."

"Guess so." Biting the inside of her cheek, Charlotte hesitated asking what had been weighing on her mind since he'd landed. "You're not going to forget us, right? When you and Marco get married, you're not going to be too busy to visit. You'll still come out and see us, right?"

"Of course I'll come visit you guys. Just because I'm getting married doesn't mean I'm going to forget you guys. You're my family."

"But so is he now."

"Yeah and who do you think pushed me to come back and reconcile with mom?" Hugging her even tighter, Jean playfully bit at her ear bringing a laugh from her. "More than anyone, Marco's the one that pushed me to make up with mom and come back home. If it weren't for him...well, there's a lot I wouldn't have if it weren't for him. Being here and enjoying myself again with you guys, especially mom, is one of them. So you don't have to worry, 'kay? I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

Smirking with a roll of his eyes, he pinched her fair cheek. "I promise. Now," Jean continued as he stood up, "how about we change the music to something a little less somber."

"Fine. Whatever you want Cali Boy."

"You know I resent that."

Flashing him a wicked smile back, she laughed. "Oh I know you do."

Flicking the back of her ear, he dodged her slap while thumbing through the music library on her phone for something they both liked. Grin broadening when he saw a group he hadn't listened to in ages, Jean tapped on the name then the first song that popped up. Bobbing his head with the melody as "Love My Way" by The Psychedelic Furs played, the photographer was quickly joined by his sister who rose with delight, grabbed his hands, and started dancing--the brush falling to the floor as they grooved to the music. It had been ages since they had last had a moment where they could just be two goofy kids dancing like lunatics to one of their favorite bands. Singing along to the words, neither of them noticed as Armand walked by, paused, and took a short video before continuing with what he was doing. They just kept moving their feet, jumping around, and shaking their heads like they were at an eighties revival nightclub. This was how they'd always been; how they always would be. Just a pair of self-proclaimed weirdos that were lucky enough to be siblings.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The party wasn't in full swing until eight-thirty when everyone began to show up. Among the few colleagues that were lucky enough to be called friends by Simone were old buddies from her college years; two of which were Jean's godparents. Marius and Etienne, or Edna and Ethel as Armand endearingly called them, were as flashy as a fireworks show on the Forth of July and gayer than Liberace playing show tunes on his white piano. Both fashion mavens with Marius at the head of Vogue Homme Pairs and Etienne working as his lead photographer and visual editor, they were the "It couple" that everyone was taking about in Paris and Milan where they vacationed during the summer.

Squishing Jean's cheeks between his tanned hands, Marius doted on the young man; commenting on how manly he looked compared to the last time they'd seen each other when the blonde was only seventeen. Cringing as his "uncle's" old lady tendencies came out, he stood there helplessly as his cheeks were pinched pink then patted before he was released from the overly-fond Frenchman. It was no surprise that Marco took joy in seeing his fiance so peeved. He too loved teasing the young man but knew his boundaries whereas the two godparents didn't and never would because it would have been rude to tell them that they were pestering the kid with their actions. Escaping when the front door rang, Jean excused himself with haste. Anything was a welcomed distraction from those two. He may have loved the guys but couldn't take it when they were being that clingy.

Gliding through the vacant living room, Jean knew exactly who was waiting behind the beveled glass of the front door. Levi and Eren had been there since four in the afternoon and Mikasa had arrived a half hour ago. Armand's guests had come early to help set up and assist with the grilling while Simone's lounged on the patio couches with her gossiping about how ridiculous the theme for the Met Gala was that year. Likewise, Charlotte had only invited a few friends from her modeling agency which left just one person missing from the guest list. Hand on the knob, Jean turned it and smiled near instantly when he saw Armin standing there with a container of homemade flourless dark chocolate cookies in his hands.

"Thank God you're here," Jean sighed with relief as he stepped to the side to let his friend inside.

"Let me guess," Armin chuckled, "Edna and Ethel?"

"They cornered me and Eren and Mika are doing nothing to help and Levi just sat there smirking."

"Well can you blame them? It's kinda funny watching them go at it."

"It's not funny Arm. It's cruel and unusual punishment."

Armin cocked his head to the side with a fatherly sort of gaze. "Their your godparents. It's normal that they'd be excited to see you."

"Don't you start with that look dude," Jean said, not missing the expression or what it meant. "Look, it's been a long week and every time I leave Kilkare some reporter is stalking me. I just want to relax, preferably without Marius and Etienne pinching my cheeks and commenting about how much weight I've lost."

"Fine, you win. I give in."

"Good. Now, go regale everyone with stories about the semester and your upcoming field class."

"Right, I'll get on that." Pausing momentarily as he began to head toward the back porch, Armin turned with a smile. "It's good to see you like this again Jean. I was starting to miss it."

Unable to do anything except smile back, Jean gave in. "Yeah, it's good to be home with the family."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

It was strange how easily everyone fell back into their routines from years ago, as if there had never been a falling out between Jean and his mother or tragedy in Eren and Levi's lives. Playing charades around the fire pit after dinner had finished and the majority of the crowd had left for the evening, it was no surprise that Mika could easily guess everything her cousin pantomimed despite his awkwardness. How she got Seabiscuit just from Levi pointing at his eyes with two fingers then everyone else was beyond the rest of the crowd. What was a surprise to many but not him was how well Armin could still understand Charlotte even when they weren't speaking.

Catching every hint she tossed their way, it was him who caught the subtle gestures, the smirks, glances, and twitches in her fingers. Like a book cracked open at the spine, she was so easy to read at times; nothing remaining hidden for long in the depths of her dreamy honey brown eyes. They had already beaten everyone else by ten points when Marco and Jean tossed in the towel claiming that they were using code or something to win. Simone just laughed as did Armand who teased his son for being a spoiled sport. 

Excusing himself from the group, Armin left the backyard--pushing past the garden gate that connected to the beach--as he removed his cellphone from the back pocket of his antique wash slim jeans. Sighing when he saw the name Lorelei, he pressed the accept icon with a less than enthusiastic look about his handsome face. Once upon a time, he and his mother had been very close, much like Jean and Simone. They did everything together--sailing, shopping, gardening, and travelling. When he was little, she used to tuck him in every night before bed, sing him a song, and kiss his forehead before checking under the bed for monsters as she left. Now that he was an adult, his mother only called once in a blue moon to check in on him and see how he was doing with his studies. Something had happened when neither of them were looking and they had drifted apart like a lifeboat floating away from its parent ship in the dead of night.

Answering yes or no to the series of questions she prattled off, his heart sank a little more the longer the conversation carried on. It were as if she weren't interested in him as a person now that he wasn't an adorable child with chubby cheeks and scraped up knees from running around the beach all day. Shoving a hand into his back pocket--his fingers nervously playing with the thread coming loose from the stitching--he dug his toes into the sand as the water came in with the tide. Watching the moon blink out of existence just below the horizon, he could barely hear Lorelei over the sound of the surf and the wind that blew through his hair as it fell free from the loose bun Armin had tied it up in. At least he didn't have to talked to his father. Hugo never did seem like the type who wanted to be a parent. He gave it his best try when Armin was little but didn't bother now that he was a "grown man."

Turning around suddenly when he felt a tap on his shoulder, the blonde's expression softened when he saw Charlotte standing there beside him. Mouthing the words "sorry, I'll wait," she knew without him having to say a thing who was on the other end of the phone. Instead, she waited--quietly and patiently, gnawing her bottom lip as she traced the outline of Armin's form in the eerie light left over from the moon and stars. Eyes wandering, she couldn't help herself when she saw his free hand tensing and relaxing idly at his side. She knew how uncomfortable he must have been. Conversations with his parents never were pleasant because they never put forth the effort to care. It was one of the many things about them that annoyed her to no end. How they could ignore a child so bright and wonderful as Armin was beyond her. 'Idiots,' she thought to herself as she watched that same hand reach up and rake anxiously through his golden bangs. 'They're both complete idiots letting their son go unloved like this.'

Stepping in closer, Charlotte took his hand in hers as it fell. It was okay for now, she told herself. It was okay to comfort friends; to care for them and cherish them when they needed it. Heart pounding when his deep ocean blue eyes looked down at their intertwined palms then up to meet her gaze, Charlotte smiled before looking down at her feet. She couldn't handle that right now; that questioning yet thankful expression he wore like a child did as their mother bandaged up their knees after a nasty fall. Getting closer as the oncoming sea breeze sent a chill down her spine, she nuzzled up against him--her face hidden in the crook of his neck and her lightly trembling hands clutching his tighter. 

To hell with what Simone had sent her out there for. The moment Armin got off the phone, Charlotte was going to tell him everything. She couldn't take this anymore and it served her right, experiencing this sort of pain years after she had hurt Armin so badly. Reconciling it with herself, she was prepared for the worst; for him to say he had moved on and found someone else to love. Charlotte just needed to get this off her chest. To come clean and tell him that she was in love with him; that she always had been even when she thought she wasn't. How and when it happened she wasn't sure nor did she care. All that mattered was telling him that she was wrong and that she was sorry for hurting him. 

Heart skipping when she heard him say good bye and hang up, she didn't move. Couldn't move for fear that her legs would give out and she'd collapse into the sand. Breathing out a small gasp as Armin knitted their fingers more tightly together--his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the top of her slender alabaster hand, she watched the tide roll in, covering their bare feet in a blanket of cool water that prickled at her skin. Mind begging for release when he leaned into her with his chin resting atop her head, Charlotte said a small quiet prayer with her eyes closed.

"I'm a rotten liar," she said, her voice scarcely audible above the sound of the waves.

"How so?" Armin asked, his eyes closed as he breathed in her scent--the smell of peonies and lilac drowning his senses in a pleasant cloud.

"When you told me you loved me, I said I could never feel that way for you." Tensing when she felt his grip tighten only slightly, Charlotte fought to keep her voice level. "I love you Armin. I probably always have but it's okay. I know you've moved on so don't worry about it. I'll--"

"Repeat that for me."

Charlotte's eyes opened, tears stinging at the corners as they struggled to break free.

"Please? Say it again. Just once."

Looking up at him, she nearly flinched when she was caught in his consuming gaze. "I love you Armin."

Staring at her for a long moment in disbelief, a tear rolled down his sun-kissed cheek as he sniffled and averted his gaze to the sea. There was a breathy laugh as he wrangled in his thoughts, his heart, and all the chaos his mind had now been plunged into. Never would he have expected to hear such sweet words come from her. They were supposed to be just friends. He was supposed to be getting over her; not thinking about her, not wanting her, not dreaming about her and how soft the skin of her back was or what her hair smelled like. Armin was supposed to be letting go--should have learned his lesson and yet here he was falling to pieces because she had said the one thing he thought to be impossible.

"You love me?" he repeated with emphasis on the word 'me.' It was unbelievable yet still, as remarkable as it was, real.

"Yes," she admitted again, hiding her embarrassment in his shoulder because it was the only safe space she could think of. "I'm sorry. I know I hurt you and I have no right to say this but I wanted to say it so that I could forget about--"

"Don't."

"What?"

Shifting so that they were facing each other, his arm around her waist with a hand brushing the hair from her face, he smiled as they drew closer. "Don't forget about me because I still haven't forgotten you." Kissing her softly with just enough pressure to assure them both that this wasn't a dream, he whispered into her ear, "I still love you Charlotte."

Legs failing her, she wrapped both arms around his neck for support with both eyes squeezed shut as the tears finally broke free. "Why? Why would you still love me? I'm so terrible and plain," she hiccuped.

Armin chuckled with a roll of his eyes. "You're not terrible and you're definitely not plain you goose." Kissing her cheek, he sighed as he nestled into the crook of her neck, not caring at all as he supported all of her body weight. He'd do anything to stay like this forever. "If only you could see yourself through my eyes, you'd never say that again."

"I love you Armin," was all Charlotte could say. It were as if her mind had gone into panic mode and those were the only words available. "I love you so much."

"I know."

"I do though. I mean it."

"I know that too," he smiled.

"So you believe me?"

"Yeah," he parted just enough to wipe the tears from her beautiful eyes; pools of sweet honey he longed to fall into. "I believe you Charlotte. You don't have to worry."

"And you love me right?"

"I do."

"Good." Biting on her bottom lip, she struggled to say what she had to say next. "What are you going to tell your girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend?"

"The brunette that was all over your facebook and Instagram pages."

"You mean Alex? Her and I broke up a month ago. Guess she could tell I wasn't into it."

"I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" Armin laughed as his brows furrowed together.

Hugging him tight, Charlotte pressed in just below his chin; eyes closing when she heard his heartbeat. "I feel like it's my fault."

Swaying in place, he bit his lip then sighed. "It's both of our faults if you're gonna look at it that way. I shouldn't have gotten involved with someone when I knew I wasn't over you."

"So we're both guilty of that."

"You too?"

Charlotte nodded. "Yeah, it didn't last long because he was a tool. Now he has someone else as his arm candy."

"Well that's good because you're so much more than just a pretty face."

"Stoooop," she blushed though with a shy smile. Armin always did know exactly what to say. "Hey Arm...?"

"Hmm?"

"You're staying the night, right?"

Smiling softly, he kissed the top of her head. "I can if you want."

"I do."

"Then I'll stay over."

"And I want to share a bed with you."

Snorting a laugh, the blonde shook his head. "Alright. Jean's going to flip if he finds out."

"Oh whatever. It's nothing like the dirt I have on him and Marco."

"I don't even want to know." Taking her hand in his as they parted completely--both hating the way the cool air hit them, Armin gave her lips one more peck before heading toward the garden. "Let's get going."

"Yeah," Charlotte smiled peacefully. "Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As many of you have pointed out in emails and comments to me, I use quiet a bit of French in my fics and this one is no different. This time, I laced it into my title because this chapter focuses more on the relationship between Armin and Charlotte and how it has changed from childhood to adulthood. And, like many of the chapters, this one was inspired by a song. 
> 
> "On Savait (Devenir Grand)" by La Grande Sophie is about a relationship that bloomed between two people when they were young and naive and impatiently pursued a relationship together without knowing what it meant to be together. This sentiment as well as not wanting to grow up is something Armin and Charlotte have in come thus I chose this song as the inspiration. So here, from me to you, is La Grande Sophie's "On Savait."
> 
>  
> 
> *ON SAVAIT (DEVENIR GRAND)*  
> by La Grande Sophie
> 
> On avait les cheveux longs  
> Des dents de lait et pourtant  
> On savait, on savait, que ça n'allait pas durer
> 
> On chassait les papillons  
> On posait plein de questions  
> On savait, on savait, que ça n'allait pas durer
> 
> On collectionnait les billes  
> On sentait bon la vanille  
> On savait, on savait, que ça n'allait pas durer
> 
> On était toujours jaloux  
> Et on attrapait des poux  
> On savait, on savait, que ça n'allait pas durer
> 
> Qui aurait pu nous le dire  
> Qui aurait su nous l'écrire  
> Qui avait la solution  
> Pour ne jamais devenir grand
> 
> On partait dans les nuages  
> Cueillir des pensées sauvages  
> On savait, on savait, que ça n'allait pas durer
> 
> On courait jusqu'à plus soif  
> On se faisait des grimaces  
> On savait, on savait, que ça n'allait pas durer
> 
> Qui aurait pu nous le dire  
> Qui aurait su nous l'écrire  
> Qui avait la solution  
> Pour ne jamais devenir grand
> 
> Devenir grand...
> 
> On voulait toujours faire vite  
> Avant de prendre la fuite  
> On savait, on savait, que ça n'allait pas durer
> 
> On avait la varicelle  
> On était bien trop cruel  
> On savait, on savait, que ça n'allait pas durer
> 
> Qui aurait pu nous le dire  
> Qui aurait su nous l'écrire  
> Qui avait la solution  
> Pour ne jamais devenir grand
> 
> ENGLISH TRANSLATION  
> **note that some French idioms don't translate over into English well.
> 
> We had long hair  
> And milk teeth (baby teeth), but still  
> we knew, we knew that it wouldn't last
> 
> We chased butterflies  
> We asked a lot of questions  
> We knew, we knew that it wouldn't last
> 
> We collected marbles  
> We smelled nicely of vanilla  
> We knew, we knew that it wouldn't last
> 
> We were always jealous  
> And we got lice  
> We knew, we knew that it wouldn't last
> 
> Who could have told us  
> Who would have known how to write it down for us  
> Who had the solution  
> For never growing up
> 
> We went up into the clouds  
> To pick wild thoughts  
> We knew, we knew that it wouldn't last
> 
> We ran until we weren't thirsty any more  
> We pulled faces at each other  
> We knew, we knew it wouldn't last
> 
> Who could have told us  
> Who would have known how to write it down for us  
> Who had the solution  
> For never growing up
> 
> Growing up ...
> 
> We wanted to do everything quickly  
> Before running away  
> We knew, we knew it wouldn't last
> 
> We had the chicken pox  
> We were too cruel  
> We knew, we knew it wouldn't last
> 
> Who could have told us  
> Who would have known how to write it down for us  
> Who had the solution  
> For never growing up
> 
>  
> 
> To watch the video, use the linky link below...
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y1U3eV2Mx-M


End file.
